In My Sister's Shadow
by XxBeccixX
Summary: What if Hawke had never been the favourite daughter? What if Bethany with her magic had been favoured above both Hawke and Carver? Would their lives have been any different? When Marea Hawke is forced to shoulder the responsibilty of looking after her family how will her experiences change everything? A response to a LJ prompt.
1. Chapter 1

**In My Sister's Shadow**

**Authors Note:**I've been meaning to upload this onto the site for months now. :/ It's just under a year old and it's been cluttering up my computer. It was a response to a prompt on the DA Kinkmeme on LJ, I'll post it under. I won't be putting up ANs at the top of each chapter like usual because I've already written it all, so apologies for the spamming that's going to happen to any of my follower's emails. :/

Prompt: "_We all know how much Carver loves being in Hawkes shadow, but what if it was the other way around? What if Hawke had been in Bethanys shadow ever since their fathers 'favourite little girl' changed from Hawke to Bethany (who was a mage like him, even better). Bethany is sweet, kind, perhaps a bit more confident (with men?) than Hawke, and Hawke has always, always been told that Bethany is the prettier of the two. Add Leandra focusing on telling Hawke not to attract attention because we don't want to put Bethany in danger (nevermind what danger Hawke puts herself in trying to keep her family safe and well), and Hawke might have some self-esteem problems. So when they meet Anders it only seems natural for Hawke to conclude that as mages the two would get along (her feelings might be influenced by attraction to him, which makes her jump to assuming he'd like Bethany more than her). And feeling as inferior to Bethany as she does, Hawke likely concludes that her own feelings about him don't have a chance._

I was thinking a rivalry between these two wouldn't be openly aggressive like Carvers, but more a quiet, unsaid thing that builds in the background. I could easily see something hurtful being said at home by Leandra, Bethany or Gamlen and Hawke fleeing/storming off for a bit to have some time alone where she doesn't need to constantly listen to her family as she does at home, or be a seemingly confident leader when her companions are around. Things were much easier when Carver was still around, because he wasn't the mage their father wanted, and Hawke wasn't the pretty, graceful girl that Leandra wanted.

Would be great if Bethany could stay true to her character, perhaps not realizing how Hawke feels."

* * *

**Prologue**

"Do you feel them, sweetheart?"

"I feel them, Papa…Are – Are the babies upset, or scared?"

Chuckling down at his daughter Malcom affectionately carded his fingers through her blonde hair, reminiscent of Leandra's noble locks, the woman who was baring the young girl's gentle pokes and prods with surprising serenity. The child, or children as the mage had later found out when administering one of his monthly check up on his wife, had been more active recently and Leandra was more short tempered than usual from the lack of sleep; it had however been a constant source of entertainment and awe.

"Of course not, Marea. They're just looking forward to seeing you; their big sister. You're going to have to be a big girl and help your mother look after them. I'm not always going to be around to keep them safe, so you've got to promise me you'll be the responsible one."

The small girl beamed up at him, ignorant to the heavy duty that had just been placed on her shoulders at such a young age. Those words would be ones that would haunt her, dog her steps, and follow her even when she hoped to shuck the responsibility. Holding out her hand she stuck her smallest finger out for her father to take, their own silent way of making promises.

As Malcom released her hand Marea turned back to the large swell of her mother's belly and placed both palms down on the thin fabric stretched thin over the bulge, delighting in the little wiggles she felt there, grinning from ear to ear in childlike curiosity. "I'll take care of you, baby brothers or sisters. Promise."

* * *

Marea had been four when her life changed forever.

* * *

Mama had been shouting and screaming for hours now, and Papa hadn't looked pleased when he'd dashed from the room a while ago to refill the bucket with fresh water. That had been about an hour previous and the sounds of pain didn't seem to be letting up; clutching the book of Chantry tales her father usually read to hear on an evening to her chest Marea curled up a little tighter on the rug by the fireplace. Without Malcom's vigilant care the roaring flames had dimmed to dull embers in the grate.

"Marea?"

Looking up from the well memorized print the blonde girl quietly got to her feet and padded over to the door, trying to peer inside between her father's legs; he obstructed her view, but couldn't stop her from hearing the animalistic grunts and occasional cries Leandra was making. Crouching down he gently pressed the bucket into her hands, helping to steady her as she staggered under the weight, "Sweetheart I need you to fill this with clean water and get back here as quickly as you can. Can you do that for me?"

Nodding stiffly the small girl heaved the bucket up to her chest and tottered into the garden, her mother's screams following her out of the door. She tipped over her feet, sloshing the dirty water onto her dress, staining the fabric a dark red. Shaking Marea bought her hands up to her face, her stomach lurching nauseatingly when she realised it was blood; it was more than Mama's moon bleed and she didn't get that anymore...Leandra had had to comfort her for hours when the hysterical girl had found the bloody sheets for the first time and demanded to know if she was hurt.

Was Mama...dying?

Pouring the soiled water away she paused at the well, biting her lip nervously before standing on her tip toes to hook the bucket onto the rope, awkwardly turning the wheel until she heard the wood hit the water. For a moment the blonde didn't think she would be strong enough to draw the bucket back up, but when she heard the startled cry from her father for her to hurry she pulled on the wheel with all her might.

She tripped a further two times on the way back into the house, spilling water onto the floorboards as she went. Malcom was waiting at the door for her and snatched the bucket from her hands without so much as a smile before shutting the door again, grim faced and grimy with gore.

Where Marea had been worried, now she was terrified. Mama had to be dying for Papa to look so upset...And what of her two new siblings? Were they going to die as well?

Being the daughter of an on the run apostate hadn't exactly been conducive to faith; of course she knew of the Maker, the nice ladies in the last village they'd lived in had told her the most exciting story about the Prophetess Andraste as she battled against the tyranny of the magisters. Because of that story she'd swore that one day she'd be as brave as the great Bride of the Maker and would wield her blade against the tyranny of...something bad...

But the point was she had never once in her life been encouraged to pray.

Now, however, she thought she should try it. Surely the Maker wouldn't take away Mama and her new brothers or sisters if she asked really nicely? And so, slick with the gore from the bucket, Marea knelt on the rug in front of the dying fire and bowed her head, begging that he would let her mother and siblings stay here with her and her father where they belonged.

" – And I promise never to hide toads in Mama's smalls again..."

Well...perhaps that was a lie...

But even the Maker had to have a sense of humour didn't he?

* * *

"They look funny."

"Don't be silly, Marea they look beautiful," Leandra snapped testily as her eldest daughter peered over her coverlet at the two bundles nestled in her arms. Malcom helpfully lifted the small blonde so she could look at the two babies properly. It was hard to see what they looked like when their faces were all scrunched up, but she was taken aback by the shock of dark hair they both shared and she gently plucked at her own blonde locks before looking at her father.

They had the same hair colour as Papa. She couldn't help the small spike of jealousy.

"What are their names?" she asked finally, looking between the boy and the girl curiously, chewing her lip gently as she did when she was nervous.

"Carver and Bethany...And do stop biting your lip like that, Marea. I won't help you mop it up when you pierce the skin again."

The girl was used to Leandra's barbs and thorny comments, it had just been something she'd come to expect from the woman during the final months of her pregnancy when her temper was frayed. Perhaps now, though, she'd go back to playing with her hair and sitting with her in her lap while Papa told her wild tales of the far city of Kirkwall in the North.

"We'll go there someday, you and I," he would breathe softly at the end and lean over to press a kiss to her drowsy head as she dozed against Mama's chest. "And I'll show you the wonders of Thedas one by one."

"Carver," she repeated softly, pressing one finger against the soft nose of the small boy, giggling childishly as he squirmed away from the contact before doing the same to the other small bundle, "And Bethany..."

She would look after her siblings, and they would be the best of friends. She could confide in her little sister, have fist fights with her brother and she and Bethany could both sneak into Mama and Papa's room to try on her dresses and play with the powders she kept on her dressing table.

They would be inseparable and do everything together. It would be perfect.

* * *

But nothing turned out how she had hoped.

* * *

Bethany had magic.

It was a fact that Marea and Carver had known since the small brunette had set her sister's skirts on fire when she'd refused to hand over the ball she'd been playing with. Of course Bethany had been given said ball and Marea had been severely scolded by their mother for antagonizing their sister; from that day forth whenever Bethany had demanded something from the blonde she had done anything in her power to make sure she got it.

As it was she had very little in common with her sister, the girl had her father's good looks, a trait shared by Carver, and Mama's stunning brown eyes, grace and poise; whereas Marea had curly, unruly blonde hair that could rarely be tamed that hung wildly to her lower back, her father's intense green eyes, pale skin that burnt when she spent too much time out in the sun and the manners of an ill-trained Mabari. She was a proverbial weed next to the blossoming flower of her sister.

Marea had been pushed aside; the brunette had taken over the time with father so he could 'train' her how to hide and control her powers; though somewhat spitefully Marea thought she was bad at the lessons on purpose so she could keep Papa all to herself. And Bethany had even taken her spot on Mama's lap as the woman gently ran a comb through her hair. The only thing she could do was harbour her camaraderie with Carver over always being second best to their sister. It had simply became the norm.

Over the years the girls grew even farther apart, each holding quiet fondness for each other and equal parts resentment; Marea resented Bethany's place as the golden child and Bethany resenting Marea as the older sister who strived to beat her at everything non-magic related. But where Mama braided Bethany's hair with beads and flowers she would pull Marea's into a rough plait claiming that she'd only had ruined it by the end of the day; where Bethany wore long, eye catching dresses, Marea would wear soft hunting leathers.

_"Oh Bethany, darling, your hair's getting so long. I just can't bring myself to cut it...I remember some old Orlesian fashions that girls used to love when I was your age, it was all about intricate braids with flowers and feathers...Perhaps I could convince your father to get some ribbon for you. I know it's expensive but a beautiful girl like you should have little things like that."_

Marea didn't get braids.

Marea didn't get flowers or feathers.

Marea didn't get ribbons or lace or little pearl buttons.

Marea didn't get the pretty little things Mama spoke of...

Because Marea wasn't beautiful enough to wear them.

Bethany however got it all.

Bethany was the one to get to use Mama's powder from the dressing table first.

Bethany was the one who got taken out to the May Day festival by a boy first.

Bethany was the one to get kissed first.

Bethany got to see Papa before her when he was dying.

But Marea was the one who had the burden of looking after the family when he finally passed the veil.

What about Bethany then? She had been perfect in every other way; why hadn't she been perfect to look after them all now he was gone?

Why was **she** the one who had to get her hands dirty? Why was **she** the one who had to be strong all the time? Why was **she** the one who had to keep hidden and not draw attention to the family lest the Templar's find out about Bethany's powers when **Bethany** was free to flaunt and dance and laugh? Why was **she **the one who had to pull her siblings out of trouble and take their beatings for them?

Why did Bethany get to live the life of a normal, happy, beautiful young woman when she had to live the life of a rogue, sneaking about making sure her sister didn't get caught and feeling tense and petrified whenever she passed the Templars as if the secret might suddenly burst from her lips like vomit.

It wasn't **her **secret. She hadn't done anything wrong and yet she had to live the life of a fugitive while her sister stole her life of freedom. She was sick of it.

And in the darkest moments where she was alone and feeling particularly bitter, she would imagine a life where Bethany had been sent to the Circle; where she was the one who had braids, and beads and ribbons and all the fine things while mother poured over her and told her how beautiful she was.

But it was only a sick, twisted fantasy and soon she would have to wake up to the harsh reality: Barely seventeen and she had a household to help feed.

Her training and swordplay with Carver had been placed on hold as she juggled farming work and helped fix roofs, doors and fences and helped tend gardens and look after children when their parents were busy. It was then she lost her brother's friendship as well to jealousy when he realised he wouldn't be taking Papa's place as the man of the house. Well he was welcome to it, and she could just leave and start a new life somewhere else where she didn't always come second.

* * *

And three years later she hadn't been able to take it anymore. She had signed up to the King's Army to help defend the country against the Blight.

_"You can't go!" Leandra snapped irritably as she watched her eldest prepare dinner; with Carver standing by the doorway, stony-faced and dour and Bethany sitting next to her, looking out of the window absently. "You can't both go. What if something happens to both of you? Who'll look after Bethany and keep her safe from the Templars?"_

Marea was sorely tempted to say that if Bethany couldn't protect herself and hide herself from the Templars on her own by now then she almost deserved to be caught; but that would only start another quarrel, as the last time she'd made the faintest joke about the Templars Bethany had looked like she was about to burst into tears, and her mother looked ready to strangle her. "Mother, we'll both be fine; the pay isn't wonderful but a week's wages is better than what I earn in a month here, and Carver wants to come. Besides, Bethany's a big girl, I'm sure she can stay out of the Templar's way whilst we're gone."

Even then it had been about Bethany. It was almost like her mother didn't care about what happened to her eldest daughter; just so long as Bethany was safe, so long as someone was there to make sure that Bethany didn't need to lift a finger.

The next morning she and Carver had left.

She didn't turn to take one last look at home as she strode towards Ostagar.

And the girl Marea with skinned knees and tears in her eyes was tossed away, and Hawke was born.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**

"C-Carver? Oh Maker, are you alright? Mama? Come quickly, Carver's hurt...She must be outside..."

Hawke peered through the sweat and blood cloying her face and eyes wildly at her pristine sister as their much larger brother leaned heavily against her, one arm tossed over her shoulder and grunting softly in pain before snapping a quick command for the girl to move. She all but dragged him into the kitchen, with no help from his twin who seemed rooted to the spot, staring at them with a deep impenetrable horror, and swept the table clear with the leather greaves on her arm, sending plates and cups clattering to the floor to smash on the hard, battered floorboards. Kodi was trailing along behind them, equally as exhausted and flopped down in front of the fireplace, whimpering softly as he licked his own wounds.

"M-Marea, t-those were the b-best plates – "

"I don' care about the fucking plates, Bethany, go and get Mother, tell her to bring the needle and thread," she snarled, legs shaking under the strain of running with her brother's weight and hoisted him off of her shoulders.

Somehow she managed to roll Carver onto the table, even in her blind panic careful not to get his filthy boots on the polished wood even when he was bleeding all over the room, and quickly tore at the crushed plating on his chest, cutting away the buckles with her dagger distantly hearing Bethany run out of the kitchen, ashen faced. She didn't have time to feel guilty about how she'd spoken to her sister, she needed to stem the blood flow; the retreat had been a disaster, men falling all around them and despite her nimbler frame she'd stayed with the great lumbering beast that was Carver, deflecting as many of the subtler attacks as she could, her hand tightly clasped in his so they weren't separated and both cutting down any 'Spawn that happened to get in their way, her faithful Mabari defending their flank as they fled.

A Genlock archer had got a lucky shot through the gap between Carver's regulation plate and mail, just beneath his ribs and had sent him hurtling into her; the only reason she hadn't fallen was because she'd extended her hand to stop herself and found the ruff of Kodi's blood slick coat. Marea hadn't let them stop. Perhaps now thinking back she should have let them take things slower, but the dread and terror from seeing her comrades being torn down around her and seeing the blood dripping down the dented armour on her brother sent her mind into overdrive and her fight or flight adrenaline fluttering through her veins. They'd paused for a couple of hours when she felt they'd fled far enough north to be just ahead of the Hoard; it had been then she had to steel herself to remove the arrow.

They'd been lucky that it hadn't been tipped with poison, but it was still a hunting arrow, the jagged teeth would have dug into his skin making removal tricky; to just pull it out would probably break the shaft and leave the lethal tip inside and if they were really unfortunate she would tear the delicate flesh and damage his insides...So she'd done the only thing she could in the absence of healers; she'd cut the Blighted thing out herself.

The incisions had been messy and uneven from the limited space she had to work in (she hadn't wanted to take off his armour and mail), and Carver had sworn and gritted his teeth throughout the whole experience as her shaky fingers finally eased the arrow from his side. Both of them were pale by the time she was finished, Carver from pain and blood loss and she from shock and nausea; Hawke had barely had the sense to thrust a couple of elfroot leaves into the gaping cut and pour a poultice and salve over the reddened flesh before stemming the worst of the blood with a wad of bandages from the pouches around her waist, wrapping the few she had left around his plate to keep it in place.

She'd staggered away to empty her stomach into the bushes when she was finished, her hands sliding off of her legs, slick with the gore from Carver's wound; she didn't stop even when her body had nothing left to reject. The dry heaves kept coming, wracking her body until she was on her knees, bent double from the exertion before they turned into heavy sobs, nails digging into the earth beneath her. And then she stopped just as suddenly has she had started. Several seconds passed where she didn't, couldn't, move from her position on the ground before Marea finally had the strength to push herself to her feet.

Another five seconds were spent wiping her eyes on her arm, only serving to spread the blood over her cheeks, mingling with the crusting muddy red from the night before. When she turned around Carver had been waiting for her, barely able to lift the large blade he usually wielded so easily and leaning heavily on Kodi. She'd taken that burden as well, he would have killed her if she'd tried to leave it, and had strapped it over the blades on her back before allowing him to lean on her for the last few miles to home.

If Carver had seen her momentary loss of control he hadn't said a word about it and she was grateful for that, but the effort of their forced jog had broken whatever little skin she'd managed to fix. And then they'd gotten home, and all Bethany had thought to do was stand and gawp.

She was a mage, Papa had taught her, couldn't she mend him?

The next thing to be cut away was Carver's shirt and a fresh wave of panic flooded her senses when his eyes slowly slid shut, dexterous fingers reaching forward to fist his hair a little harder than she needed to. "Don't you dare go to sleep, Carver, you might not wake up again."

"Then stop fucking prodding it you raging Ogre!" he ground out curtly, glowering up at his older sibling as she removed the bandages she wedged inside the wound, closely followed by what was left for the festering elfroot leaves.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Carver, but you're bleeding to death, if I don't poke and prod it you'll d – "

"Carver!"

Ah, and here was their mother to fuss over him. She wanted to somewhat sulkily add that she was fine not to worry, despite the numerous cuts and incisions she'd had to ignore over the last twenty-four hours (not to mention the painful lump on her head that had only just stopped bleeding from the pommel of a Hurlock's sword when she'd try to sneak away from the large group of 'Spawn to locate her brother when their betrayal had been realised, the only reason she hadn't been finished there was because Kodi bodily launched himself at the thing) but there was no point in such childish behaviour...Carver was in pain and she needed to get this gaping hole in him stitched up before it got infected.

"Oh Maker...My baby, what happened to – "

"Bethany can you heal this?" Marea asked sharply, cutting across their mother's hysterics clinically, already setting up the thread through the eye of the curved needle. It was a wicked thing, and the sharp pull of coarse thread running through flesh was something that both warrior and rogue had experienced too many times before since their father had died and his healing spells with him.

The mage cowering behind Leandra seemed shocked that her sister had asked her when the blonde knew that she couldn't and Bethany quietly shook her head, pouting out her lower lip. She didn't like the way Marea nodded shortly as if she'd confirmed something for her and then moved to retrieve the strong bottle of whisky old Barlin had got Carver for his name day the year previous from the shelf and took a long draught.

"Something to wet your throat, Brother?"

Carver couldn't help the grimacing smile when the bottle was extended to him and he gratefully took a swig, enjoying the burn before bracing himself for what was to come. "Do it."

The next half an hour was agonizing for all concerned, and their mother had left halfway through with Bethany when the nausea had her swooning leaving Carver and Hawke to grind out soft, unmeant insults to each other, ranging from calling the former an infant who couldn't stand a little pain to Carver accusing Marea of having the fingers of an inexperienced cutthroat when the thread rasped a little harder than usual. She'd tried to keep the stitches small for his benefit.

"I'm sure Peaches will love how it makes you more of the battle hardened hero," she teased him when she was finally finished, sitting back to admire her work before rooting around the cupboards for an elfroot potion.

"Shut up you ungrateful wench I could have just left you out there you know," Carver snapped, his ears pinking at the comment, reluctantly sitting up and placing his muddy boots on the seat of one of the chairs.

Snorting Hawke flicked her thick braid over her shoulder and strode back to the table, forcing the bottle into his open hand, "You leave me? And here I thought I was the one doing the rescuing?"

"Dream on, Sister. We both know I took that arrow for you; you should be thanking me."

Despite the jovial words Marea's eyes suddenly turned very serious and for once Carver wondered if maybe he'd crossed his bounds. However the blonde woman instead rested her hand gently on his shoulder and offered him a grim smile, the affection in her gaze suddenly stifling, "Thank you, Carver. I...I don't think I would have made it out of there without you – you gave me something to keep going for."

Shifting awkwardly Carver passed the potion between his hands, struggling to think of something to say. For all of his bitching and moaning he loved his sister; they had been there for each other when their parent's hadn't been; it was strange to think he had a better bond with her than with his own twin. The truth stung. "Don't be stupid, you would have torn your way through that field whether I was there or not."

"Perhaps," she mumbled quietly, as if more to herself than to him before she slipped back into her usual, beaming self. The transition was...unnerving. "Take the potion, it'll numb the pain and heal most of it up by morning."

"We're going to have to leave aren't we?"

Nodding her head solemnly Marea replied, "I'm afraid so. Tell mother and Bethany they need to be packed by sunrise, we can't wait any longer than that and tell mother that she can only take food and the bare essentials; that means leaving all of her best pots to the Darkspawn."

"Are you mad? I'm not telling her that, why can't you?" Carver asked grumpily and watched as the blonde threw him a sheepish grin, picking up the needle and thread before retrieving the lantern from by the door, fiddling with the tinder to light the wick.

"Because she's less likely to attack an invalid like you," Hawke teased and barely ducked in time to miss the heavy shoulder padding he'd launched at her head. "Don't overexert yourself as well; I don't want you to ruin my stitch work. And mother said I was awful at tapestries."

Grumbling quietly under his breath at his ill fortune Carver followed his sister as she made her way to the door that would lead her out into the village and with a frown he forced himself to his feet, uncorking the bottle. "Where are you going?"

Turning to look round at her sibling Marea offered him a small smile and tapped one of the bloody cuts along her left arm, "To get cleaned up and patch up my own wounds, not all of us are blessed with older sister's willing to sew up their brother's so their insides stay in when they're foolish enough to get themselves shot."

"You don't want me to help do you?"

Her gaze softening at the honest offer, lacking his usual bite, the blonde shook her head and inclined her head towards the door their mother and Bethany had disappeared through. "I'm alright, just get them packed up...Oh, and Carver? Never put yourself between danger and me again, if anyone's going to get their arse killed by Darkspawn or Giant Spiders or anything else that decides to have a shot at us it'll be me."

"Oh really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in her direction as she tapped her fingers against the doorframe and chewed her lip nervously, careful not to ingest any of the blood for fear of it being tainted. Kodi, from his place by the hearth hopped to his feet and padded towards his mistress, short tail wagging softly as he licked her knee, "And what gives you the right to decide that?"

"Because," Hawke said quietly and Carver had to strain to hear what his sister said next. "I'm the one people won't miss."

And without another word the blonde was gone leaving her brother to silently curse his mother and the irreparable damage she'd done.

* * *

The river was all but deserted by the time Marea got to the pebbled shores, and the sun had dipped beneath the tree line making her glad for the little pool of light her lantern gave. With Kodi as her only company she set about sewing each cut, starting with the one on her thigh, the long, deep incision she'd received in a moment of carelessness; she didn't wince as she manipulated her skin back together and stripped her leathers once she'd finished. She washed away the grime with a cold precision and gently brushed her fingers over the smaller nicks; they'd heal soon enough and didn't need her attention so she washed her hair and face, staring down at her reflection for a moment to trace her nose, her cheeks and then lock her eyes with the woman looking back at her.

She was nothing like her sister, and she was ashamed to admit that the month she and Carver had spent together away from her mother and Bethany had been one of the best she had had in a very long time. She'd been free. Roughing braiding her hair Hawke scratched behind Kodi's ears as he looked off behind them, guarding her dignity as she slid her foul smelling shirt back onto her frame, tearing the left sleeve off at the shoulder and twisted so she could stitch the wound.

It was awkward and the stitches were large and unseemly, but it was the best she could do at the angle.

However, thick, warm fingers stilled her own and the blonde watched silently as Carver gently eased the needle from her grasp and held her shoulder still as he continued the work for her, being infinitely tender and cleaning up the mess she had made. They remained in passive silence as he continued his job, careful not to tug too hard, where as he could cope with the rough texture of the twine Marea's skin was far too soft to stand up to the same attention.

"Sorry..." he mumbled as she hissed though her teeth at a particularly hard tug and he finished quickly, cutting the thread away with her dagger before flopping down next to her, staring out over the waters.

Then after a moment he encroached on the silence, "You would be missed you know."

"No I wouldn't," she said softly and offered the younger man a small smile. It didn't hurt as much as it used to; it was simply a fact now, she was resigned to it. "Mother would still have her strapping young boy and her perfect little girl; the only one who would bat an eyelid would be Kodi here. I'm...expendable."

"Not to me you're not...I'd go mad if you left me alone with Mother, you know I can't stand her fussing; you're the only one who treats me like – "

"Like the Wild's scum you really are?" Hawke chuckled and winced when she was pulled into a one armed hug, however she quietly relaxed into the embrace and wrapped her own arms around his waist, careful not to brush the newly finished stitching there.

"You're a right little bitch sometimes you know that, Marea? Do you have to ruin every moment with your barbs and so-called wit?"

"Of course," she teased and rested her chin on his shoulder, giggling as he dug his fingers into the soft skin beneath her arm. "You would be worried if I was serious for once...but for the record, Carver, I would miss you most of all. Because you're the only one who sees me and just...accepts."

Silence spread itself thickly between them once more as she shivered and shifted into her brother's warmth; it was nice to sit like this, and she couldn't help but wonder if his sudden affection had come from his near death experience...or if it was simply because he knew she needed comfort after the horror of the last few days...Whatever the reason she was glad he was here, like this; protecting her.

"It's all going to change now isn't it?"

Carver started at the open and vulnerable edge that had entered her voice and gently brushed the tips of his fingers through her hair, frowning slightly. "Yes...But just so you know, Sister. I don't look at you and think you're ugly like mother says sometimes; I look at you and I see a beautiful, fierce woman that will prove a challenge for any man. And Maker knows I'll be there every step of the way to stop them getting near you. Bethany's pretty, sure, but she's naive. You have this strength around you sometimes that just makes you glow, don't ever forget that."

"Marker, Carver...W-Where did my spoilt brat of a brother go?"

"Bet you didn't think I could be serious too, did you?"

Bastard was going to make her cry. His face was swimming in front of her and she bought her fist down on his thigh. Hard.

"Andraste's tits, Marea! What the fuck was that for?" he all but bellowed, pushing her away to cradle his now throbbing leg.

"Ah, there he is, I thought this sensible fool had taken you over for a second there," she said with a sly smile, revelling in the irritation between them instead of the awkward moment from before.

To her utter amazement her brother pulled her back in for another embrace with a soft chuckle and ruffled her hair, prompting a short jab to his good ribs with her elbow. "Andraste's flaming arse, Sister. Don't ever change."

"You too, Carver...You too."

* * *

Maker that thing was **huge**.

Marea barely had the chance to leap out of the way as the Ogre changed them, forcing Aveline back and Bethany (she'd finally decided to start pulling her weight instead of acting like the Orlesian wall flower their mother wanted her to be) dancing off to the left. As she pushed herself to her feet she could see the unholy thing lowering its horned head again to charge at them again, its black eyes locked on her, and from her peripheral vision she could see Carver readying to leap to her defence.

"No, Carver! Stay with mother, keep her safe," she bellowed and swiped her weapons from the dirt before rolling from beneath the beasts feet, slicing at its ankles as it passed. Her efforts were rewarded by a wind removing kick that sent her flying a good five feet backwards. It made its way towards her once more, and Maker she didn't know what she'd done to offend it but it was pissed.

There wasn't time for her to get out of the way this time. She was...she was actually going to die. After all of that talk last night, it was actually going to happen.

"You soulless bastard!"

Her brother's battle cry sent ice shooting through her veins and Hawke could only watch as Carver ran at the Ogre, diverting its attention from her momentarily. And then everything happened in slow motion.

The beast wrapped its hand around her brother's chest, crushing his arms and lifted him into the air, swiping away Kodi's furious attempts to make the Ogre drop his second Master...and slammed him down into the ground. At a particularly sharp bite from the Mabari at its feet the beast dropped Carver's lifeless form and Marea could only watch as Leandra ran the length of the battlefield to cradle her boy.

And he wasn't moving.

**"No!"**

She hadn't even realised the inhuman scream of rage, and grief had come from her own torn throat but it didn't matter because she was launching blow after blow at the creature, staggering it, and herself, with the sheer speed and force of her blades movement. She disappeared behind a cloud of smoke as it made a grab for her and snuck behind it, embedding her blades in the soft tissue behind its knees, relishing the roar of pain it made as she charged it with all her might.

It was on its knees when she finally dealt the final blow, headless to the battle going on around her, of Bethany launching a fireball into a group of Hurlocks, or of Aveline battering another group into submission; she was too focused on her prey, and the kill she was about to make. Bellowing her own wordless battle cry the eldest Hawke child jumped, sliding one blade into the things throat and then the other. She was slick with blood as it collapsed back onto the ground, dead limbs twitching. But she didn't stop.

She kept driving the daggers into its throat, skull, chest, anywhere her blades made contact she pierced, over and over until...

"Hawke!"

Turning to look at the red head's concerned face Marea slowly came to her senses, pulling her daggers one last time from the Ogre's jugular and sheathed them, turning suddenly to lurch into a sprint to her brother's body. Bethany was knelt by his prone side, sobbing quietly while their mother desperately tried to shake the life into him.

Carver...Her sarcastic little brother...Whom she had loved and loved her because of their link in loneliness. She wouldn't hear him call her a fat Orlesian's bitch and she would never call him an insufferable Wild's toad again...He was gone.

At it tore at her heart that he hadn't listened to her. This should have been her...And he would have gathered up the group without them needing to mourn, and he would have bid her a solemn farewell. But this – this was wrong.

"C-Carver...Baby, wake up, the fighting's over now, we need to leave..."

"I'm sorry mistress, your son is gone."

Marea closed her eyes at the wave of nausea that threatened to usurp her carefully made mask, but it was cracking; she could feel the fissures.

"No! These things will not take Carver. I won't let them!"

"Mother, please. We have to go, we can mourn him when we're safe he wouldn't want us t – "

The short, sharp slap across her right cheek stunned her into silence and Hawke squeezed her eyes shut. This was a nightmare, this wasn't real, the Blight had never happened, Papa was still alive and she was in her bed, and Carver would run in to demand a duel from her and drag her from sleep, and it would dissolve into a fist fight because she would want five more minutes...The tears she told herself weren't there spilled over and she kept her head turned from where the force of her mother's blow had pushed it.

"Don't you speak to me of grief," Leandra hissed, ignoring the way Aveline suddenly shifted behind her eldest as if ready to pull her into defensive position. "This is your fault! How could you let him charge off like that...Your little brother...My little boy."

"Please, mother we can't stay here," Bethany pleaded as Marea silently pushed herself up to her feet, backing away from the scene silently, breathing her goodbyes and shrugging off the red head's comforting hand. "Carver wouldn't want his death to be in vain..."

"Allow me to condemn your boy's soul to the Maker," Wesley mumbled and raised his hand, the Chantry dogma spilling from his lips.

Hawke couldn't help the way her blood boiled.

"Bullshit," she whispered softly, just loudly enough for Aveline to hear before turning away and unsheathing her blades, "Bullshit...The Maker isn't listening. He never listens."

"We need to get moving before they regroup..."

The tortured, dark smile Marea turned to give them sent shivers running through their group before she slowly advanced towards the Darkspawn charging towards them.

"Too late."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two**

"No."

That hadn't been the answer Hawke had been looking for...It looked like they needed to do a little more sweet talking – or begging which ever would get this onto the damn expedition. Pride could come later, when they actually had something to be proud of. Casting a sideward glance in her sister's direction she wasn't sure whether or not to be amused or irritated by the look of panicked resignation that had passed over her features, but catching her eye she jerked her head after the dwarf and quickly made to follow him. She would be damned if another one of her plans fell through for her mother to complain about and for Gamlen to try, in his own awkward and rude way, to make her feel a little better about. It was as though he'd seen a kindred spirit in her; another child who had always come secondary and hadn't quite had the heart to treat her like his sister and Bethany.

Not to mention she was pretty sure it was because she'd called him her favourite uncle and had been rather accepting about the whole deal that had set them on this path.

_"So what's a year?" she said with a small smile, trying to make all of this sound better than it was, she certainly didn't want to be in servitude with some a mercenary group or a bunch of smugglers, but it didn't seem they had a choice. But as usual her attempts at humour didn't work...Carver would have laughed, after telling her she was a deranged bitch. The thought sent her stomach jerking with a painful lurch._

She missed him.

"Will they just take Marea? Bethany isn't suited to a life of smuggling and I don't want her working for mercenaries."

Both Gamlen and Aveline had stiffened, staring between the blonde, who was simply looking at her mother like she hadn't expected anything different, and Leandra, who seemed to have realised that what she'd just said might have insulted the others. Gamlen shook his head after a moment of silence, grumbling something that sounded suspiciously akin to the phrase 'like mother like daughter' and answered the question.

"They'll want both of them, Leandra. That was the deal, and Bethany's a mage, they'll want her more than Marea."

So perhaps he wasn't her favourite uncle...Of course they wanted Bethany.

"It's just...Marea's used to this sort of thing...and Bethany is..."

Aveline seemed to have heard enough and jumped to help Hawke, trying to end the conflict without upsetting either side, though it simply sounded like she was defending Bethany. Not that she was surprised; that was simply how it was. Everyone defended Bethany. "I'm sure Hawke won't let any harm come to your youngest, mistress...but what of me? I won't let others incur a debt on my behalf?"

Leandra's answer didn't skip a beat, "Then you'll come with us."

The red head seemed shocked for a moment that she had been welcomed so easily into the family when Hawke was obviously struggling to stay inside it before slowly inclining her head, placing a hand on Marea's shoulder and squeezed gently as they turned to speak with the two groups that held their wellbeing in their (unsavoury) hands.

Gamlen had taken her aside when they'd finally got into Kirkwall, if she remembered rightly; he'd given her an awkward pat on the head and told her not to worry about her mother – it seemed to be a family trait that the women always seemed to hate one of their children. She hadn't been sure what to say, hearing someone tell her that her mother hated her had been a bit of a shock, but the sentiment behind his words was what had mattered and she'd bobbed her head in thanks before trailing back towards the rest of her family.

She needed a long stiff drink if she was actually considering her **uncle **as an ally. Maker help her.

"Come now, Bartrand," the blonde continued sweetly, falling into step just behind him with Bethany trailing along dejectedly in the rear. Well, if she carried on like that they would never get to deal; looking over her shoulder she made a gesture for her sibling to smile before turning back. "If you'd only – "

"No! Andraste's tits, human!" the stout man cut across her grumpily and stalked into the Merchant Guild's courtyard, barely glancing back at them. "You know how many people want to hire on to this expedition?"

Marea and Bethany shared a look, one that told the younger woman to use her fabled 'charm' on Bartrand because her's didn't seem to be working. Not that she was surprised, Bethany had always been best at getting what she wanted; why shouldn't she succeed?

"But we heard you're going into the Deep Roads. Surely you'll need all the help you can – "

"No."

Narrowing her eyes at the dwarf Hawke crossed her arms and jutted out her right hip, any pleasure she might have felt that her sister had failed to get the dwarf on side was overshadowed by irritation. He really needed to stop interrupting them; it was starting to grate on her nerves. Nerves that were already frayed from the argument she and Leandra had got into that morning about the incident with the Templars last week. How had she supposed to know that the little weasel would rat Bethany out the moment he was free from the contract they'd been working on together?

She wasn't a mind reader. **Bethany **was the mage, not her. She couldn't help but wonder if maybe their mother forgot that sometimes.

The two sisters stopped in front of Bartrand, one of their Paragons at his back, the younger pleading while the older simply glowered down at the dwarf – he quailed, but only barely.

"Too late! Already done," he protested and shrugged, "This is the sort of venture that can make a man for life! I'm not about to take any chances hiring random humans."

_Liar._

The thought had come unbidden, but now she lingered on it she realised it was true. Working for Meeran over the past year had left her with a keen talent for reading people; and Bartrand was screaming dishonesty. He wasn't worried about hiring 'random humans' he just wanted to keep his costs low so his profits would be high. Marea couldn't help but wonder if he was going to get the expedition destroyed down in the Deep Roads because of it.

Offering the dwarf a cunning smile the rogue rested a gloved hand over her heart and the issue mercenary leathers Meeran had given her before she'd left as a gift of 'good faith' before gesturing towards the Blooming Rose with her free hand. She just wants drinks of course, she had enough self-dignity not to go around offering herself up just to get what she wanted, but if there was one thing she did know, it was that men were far more receptive to arguments when their attention was distracted by their three favourite things; arse, tits and legs. "Get to know us, Bartrand. I'll buy you a pint and we can talk business."

"Get in line, human. Half of Kirkwall wants to be my best friend right now," Bartrand ground out ignoring her wiles with sheer stubbornness...or stupidity she was sure. "You're looking for a way out of slums right? You and every other Ferelden in this dump. Find another meal ticket."

Shit. She was never going to hear the end of it now; Bethany would run home and tell mother how she'd failed to charm the gullible dwarf into letting them join the expedition and how now they were going to have to formulate another grand plan. It was easy for both of them to judge, she didn't see _them_coming up with any bright ideas; mother had never had to do an honest days work in her life, and by default neither had Bethany. They just sat there criticizing and waiting for her to pull the high life out of her arse. Just like that. If only it were that easy.

"What are we supposed to do now? We've got nothing to stop the next person who tries to sell me out. This expedition was our last chance..."

By the _Maker_...Once, just once she wished it wasn't all about the Templars chasing after Bethany. Yes, if she was caught at best she could be taken to the Circle and at worse she could be killed, but it wasn't like Marea was going to walk away from the whole ordeal without her knees skinned should her sister be caught. She'd killed her own fair share of Templars to keep the bastards away from her (ungrateful) sibling and if they found out it had all been her doing to protect the apostate she'd probably be executed on the spot.

"Don't worry, Bethany. I'll keep the big, bad Templars away." _It wouldn't be the first time..._

"It's not funny!"

Oh to the void with that! Surely she wasn't about to start crying? She was almost eighteen, hadn't she gone past the age of tearing up at every hard problem they faced? "Calm down. I was teasing you. I won't let anything happen to you, Bethany. You know that."

_Not like Carver...I made a promise and Andraste be my witness I'm not going to fail Papa again. I owe him that much._

"We need coin, status, something we can hide behind," the brunette said finally, placated by her other sibling's gentle reassurance and started towards the market, her brow furrowed in concentration. "So long as we're just refugees we're no one."

With a sigh Bethany stopped and Hawke crossed her arms, waiting for her sister to say something; there was no way she was going to come up with a plan off the top of her head. She was putting her foot down; it was someone else's turn to take the reins, if only for a little while. "Maybe Gamlen knows someone who can talk to Bartrand for us?"

"Gamlen?" she snorted and shook her head with a chuckle. "He's not exactly the most reliable tool in the shed...but sure, maybe some of his bullshit will work on Bartrand. They seem to speak the same language."

"You know Mama doesn't like it when you talk like that, Marea...It's not really right for a woman to – "

Narrowing her eyes on her sister she silenced her with a look and stalked to the steps that would lead them to the bazaar and then to Lowtown. "I'm not discussing it, Bethany. It's just a habit that wore off on me from Meeran, not all of us had mother breathing down our neck's to make sure we behaved like a good little girl."

Maker knows Leandra didn't care a bit if her eldest wandered about dressed and behaving like an uncouth adolescent boy.

Bethany reddened and opened her mouth to say something, but (praise the Maker) she simply closed it and followed after her sister. They didn't get far before Marea was pushed aside rudely, but such behaviour was normal when dealt towards the Ferelden refugees, and while they tried to dress like the Kirkwall residents there was no getting around the fact that the eldest sibling looked like typical 'barbarian' woman. Carver and Bethany had been graced with their mother's softer, aristocratic facial features and her slightly dusky skin, while Marea had their father's sharper face with high cheekbones and his expressive, but blunt gaze, not to mention she was pale as snow and burnt in the Free Marches hot sun.

However something was wrong when the man who'd ran into them started to walk away, her left hip felt a little lighter and the blonde pressed her hand to the empty strings where the purse usually hung. That nug humping...

"Hey! Get back here you little shit!"

Both the pickpocket and Hawke burst into a sprint, her nimbler frame making it easy to keep up with him even with his head start and at a glance over her should she saw Bethany trailing behind her. However she didn't get the chance to catch the man herself, because as she turned the corner she found him pinned to the wall, by a crossbow bolt as a suave looking dwarf stalked towards him.

"I knew a guy once who could take every coin out of your pockets just by smiling at you. But you? You don't have the style to work Hightown, let alone the Merchant's Guild," he taunted and held out his hand for Hawke's pitiful purse. Marea watched as the cutpurse reluctantly handed over his stolen goods and as the dwarf slugged him over the jaw for his struggles. "Might want to find yourself a new line of work."

Removing the bolt from the thief's shoulder the beardless dwarf sent him on his merry way and slowly sauntered, because the way the man moved couldn't be anything but a saunter, towards them, Bethany breathing heavily behind her as she ground to a halt. Hawke held out her hand for her purse and offered the dwarf a small smile of thanks as he tossed it her way.

"How do you do? Varric Tethras at your service...I – apologise for Bartrand. He wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw."

"But you would?"

Varric chuckled at the incredulous look that passed over Marea's face and the way she cocked an eyebrow and folded her arms, shifting her weight onto one leg."I would! What my brother doesn't realise is that we **need**someone like you. He would never admit it, either – he's too proud. But I am quite practical."

Bethany shifted behind her and Hawke turned to see what the woman thought about all of this; after all they were going into this together, it should be a joint decision. At the nod the blonde settled her attention back on Varric, not moving or saying a word for a good four or five seconds; it was only when he started shifting awkwardly under her unwavering gaze that she spoke.

"What makes you so certain we can help? You know nothing about us."

"On the contrary," the dwarf chuckled again and shook his head. "You've made quite the name for yourself over the last year. I know everything worth knowing in Kirkwall and you were behind three off the biggest assassinations this city has ever seen and not once got caught...not bad for a Ferelden fresh off the boat."

"Urgh, don't remind me. I was washing the blood out for weeks, even got on my smalls; had to buy myself some new boots too," she mumbled with a wry smile.

"Ha! I don't doubt it. My point is you're sneakier than a Crow and we need you on the expedition."

"That's because I'm a Hawke, not a Crow."

The dry comment was rewarded with another deep laugh and Varric nodded once, his eyes taking in the woman's appearance. It seemed everything his contacts had said about Marea Hawke was true; equal parts deadly and beautiful in a way that drew you in but struck fear into your heart all at the same time. With cutting wit to boot. She had it all and he had no doubt he'd be telling tales about her before their time was through.

It was then Bethany decided to speak up. "We should listen to what he has to offer. It's not like we have any other plans."

All three of them noted the silent accusation in that last sentence, and while Varric was staring at the brunette as if he'd expected the two sisters to be on better terms with one another, Hawke pressed on. "You're going an awfully long way for a couple more guards..."

"We don't need another hireling," the blonde man said bluntly, causing Hawke to raise her eyebrow and cross her arms once more – minus the hip. Varric wasn't sure why that had needed to be mentioned, but he was certain she only jutted out her hip when she was pissed off; like a silent warning that a predator was about to cut your life short. "We need a partner. Truth is Bartrand's been tearing his beard out trying to fund this thing on his own, but he can't do it. Invest in the expedition; fifty sovereigns and he can't say no. Not with me there to vouch for you."

Marea snorted. Fifty sovereigns? Was this dwarf one arrow short of a quiver? Well...It would explain why he didn't have a beard.

"I hope there's more to this grand plan of yours, Varric...Like **how**I'm supposed to get that much coin together, you felt my purse, it's lighter than air."

"You need to think **big**! There's only a brief window of opportunity after a Blight when the Deep Roads won't be crawling with darkspawn. The treasure you find down there could set you and your family up for life."

He was charming, Hawke would give him that; and he seemed to have ensnared her sister. But she couldn't help but be a little dubious about the whole idea, if this 'window of opportunity' was as short as he made it out to be what were the odds of her putting aside all of that money in time to make good on it?

"It won't be easy, but it's a chance. I think we have to take it. Better to work our way onto this expedition than to sit around waiting to be thrown into the Gallows."

_Or to be killed._

"We work together, you and I, and we'll have all the capital you need. What do you say?"

Glancing between the dwarf and Bethany the blonde frowned, weighing up the pros and cons for such a deal. Varric Tethras seemed like the kind of person who was handy to have around in a tight spot; he had even more of a liquid silver tongue than she did, and her sister seemed to be all for the plan...It was just the issue of money...**Fifty sovereigns...**

"Oh...why not? It's not like I had anything better to do with my time," she sighed finally and offered the dwarf a short nod.

"Trust me; Kirkwall's crawling with work, you set aside some coin after every job and you'll have the money in no time," Varric assured brightly and offered the pair a smooth smile, hooking his thumbs in his belt as Bethany mentioned Aveline, nodding sagely. "We should speak privately when you get the chance. In the Hanged Man maybe – I'll be there when I'm not with you."

Hawke nodded and uncrossed her arms, chewing her lower lip in thought. Aveline would be their best bet, the red head knew all sorts of things; especially the kind of things that got them **paid**. "How about Friday night? I can buy you a pint with the coin I _do_have before we get in too deep."

"Sounds good to me. Now, let's go see what trouble we can stir up."

* * *

"Nice place you got here..."

Varric looked up from the maps he'd been pouring over to see Hawke leaning against the doorframe of his suite with two tankards in her hands and chuckled, waving her in. She swept her gaze appreciatively over the furnishings before placing the mead on the table and settled in his seat; he didn't have the heart to tell her to move as she got herself comfortable and instead watched as she swung her legs up onto the armrest.

He was surprised to see that when she wasn't in her armour the woman dressed rather conservatively, far more so than he would have expected from someone like her. He'd thought her to be the kind of girl to flaunt her Maker given assets, but here she was, hair still pulled tight in her braid, wearing a pair of fabric trousers, tucked into her boots and a light green tunic, barely cinched in at her waist by a belt that held a wicked dagger for all to see. It didn't make her look unattractive by any stretch of the imagination; it just hardened her.

"I see you brought drink," he stated gratefully and lifted the mug to his lips to take a gulp of the foul liquid, pulling a face and shuddering.

"A promise is a promise. Coriff showed me the way up."

"Well, now you're here...We have one small wrinkle in the plan – "

Hawke chuckled at this and raised her tankard in a sort of salute and winked before taking a long draught, almost instantly erupting into loud coughing and spluttering. The dwarf bore her outburst in silence, waiting for her to finish, and, eyes streaming, she finally choked out. "Only one? I can think of several."

"Your trust in me is inspirational; you can't tell me that after the week we've had that you haven't completely fallen in love with me?"

There was a long pause where the woman seemed to be fishing for something to say, or how to say it. Now this was new, he'd expected her to be fluent in flirting but perhaps not... "I never give the game away on the first night spent together, sorry Varric."

Ah, or not. He shouldn't be surprised, a year with a bunch of mercenaries must have given her plenty of opportunity to brush up on her skills if they'd been lacking before she came to Kirkwall; though how a woman of her beauty had escaped male attraction for all these years he wasn't sure. Both sisters had a charm about them that any self-respecting whore would _kill_to have.

Come to think of it, Bethany wasn't here.

"So where's Sunshine?"

His question was greeted with another long pause as Marea brushed her fingers over the handle of her tankard and worried her lower lip before answering. "She's at home; mother didn't want her somewhere like this. Why?"

The slight hesitancy in her voice and the way she quietened had Varric quickly covering his mistake at mentioning her sibling. If he hadn't been suspicious of their relationship he was now; whatever was going on between them it wasn't good. He knew the signs, he had similar problems with his own brother; he'd just expected Hawke to be strong enough to ignore it...or perhaps he was just reading too much into it.

"No reason, Elfroot...I was just curious is all – "

"_Elfroot_? That's your nickname for me? What was wrong with Hawke?"

Varric chuckled. "You're not exactly a bird of prey; you're deadly yes, but you just don't _look_like a hawk...a dove, yes, but not a hawk. And I called you Elfroot for a number of reasons, each sappier than the next, but long story short you're constantly picking the stuff whenever you find it, so it stuck."

They both laughed at that and Marea had quickly explained that as a rogue it was always handy to pick up any herbs you might come across in the wild to replenish your stocks to save money when the time came to make something with them and finished off their mead. Varric ordered another round and moved to stand in front of the fire, spreading his hands over the maps he'd been looking at before she'd arrived.

"So here's the snag; we need to find a way into the Deep Roads. Bartrand can lead us to the right place once we're down there, but we need a good entrance," he explained and nodded his thanks to the barmaid who placed the ale on the table, pulling the mug towards him to take a swig.

"Well any entrance will do won't it? Unless it's got a dragon sitting inside it; that would be bad."

"Yes," the dwarf chortled and shook his head, "That would be bad. Fortunately I've received some new information; there's a Grey Warden in the city. If anyone knows how to get down there it would be him."

Hawke's brow furrowed for a moment before grinning and lifted her drink to him, "Sounds like you've got everything under control, Varric."

"And that, messere, is why I'm here," he said with a little bow before sitting down in one of the less illustrious chairs, since the blonde was still draped across his usual throne. "Supposedly, this Grey Warden came in with some other Ferelden refugees not so long ago. A Lowtown woman named Lirene had been helping the Fereldens; we find her and we might find our Warden. I'll keep after my contacts – see if I can drum up any other work for us."

Marea surprised them both when she slammed her tankard down with a stern look, though it was ruined when she started giggling. "Enough about work, Varric. This is the first time all week I've managed to get away from my mother for the evening and I'll be damned if I'm not going to enjoy it; and to do that I need more drink. I'll buy."

With a devious smirk Varric reached into his coat and pulled out his deck of cards, "Have you ever played Wicked Grace?"

* * *

It had been a short stagger home from the Hanged Man, her purse considerably lighter thanks to the mead and Varric cheating her at his aptly named card game (she was glad she'd been putting the expedition fund in another purse in the locked chest beneath her bed – far away from her uncle) and her head swimming pleasantly. He'd offered to walk her home, but the yawn he'd been unable to suppress had made her refuse; it was only down the alley and she promised to stick to the shadows and keep out of sight. It had worked very well, until she'd stepped through the door to find her mother standing in her nightdress waiting for her.

"Maker's breath, Marea. What time do you call this?"

She groaned softly and ran her hand over her face, the beginnings of a headache starting. She really didn't want to deal with her mother right now, especially not when she was slightly inebriated.

"Aren't I a little old for you to be fussing over me like an infant?" _You've never done it before, why start now?_

The older woman scowled and crossed her arms, her face twisted by the shadows the dying fire cast over her face. "Where have you been?"

"Out," the blonde hissed curtly and started towards the door to the room she and Bethany, but the pad of the boots on the floorboards stopped suddenly when Leandra reached out to stop her eldest daughter.

"Have you been _drinking_?"

There was a long moment of silence before Hawke spoke, her eyes cutting into her mother piercingly, making the woman tense at the burning within her gaze. "Yes," she ground out finally and sneered, "What do you care? Scared I'll get stabbed on the way home and no one will be around to look after Bethany and keep Gamlen from tossing us out onto the streets?"

Her gut lurched guiltily as her mother looked down, hurt swimming on her face and for a moment she looked like she'd been slapped. And then she looked like she was about to slap her daughter. "How _dare_you. That is completely unfair, Marea and you know it; I have never – "

Leandra silenced as the blonde raised her hand and pulled her arm free from her grasp with a sound similar to the one's Kodi made when he was upset, said hound had lifted his head and sleepily got to his feet, head cocking at the tension between his mistress and her mother. "I've got a headache and I'm tired. We can talk tomorrow."

Without another word she gestured for the Mabari to follow her and slipped into her room, leaving the older woman to stare after her in silence.

Marea stripped in silence, pulling the heavy woven nightshirt over her head and untied her hair, brushing her fingers through the rigid curls before reaching down to scratch behind Kodi's ears. Her reverie was broken suddenly by the sound of Bethany rolling over and she glanced behind her to see the girl peering at her from the top bunk.

"You shouldn't antagonise her you know...she only does it because she cares about you."

Antagonise her? Bethany thought that she antagonised their mother?

Scowling the blonde slid into bed, pinning herself against the wall and lifting the sheets so the large war dog could sidle up next to her – there wasn't enough room for him, and she usually made him sleep on the floor, but tonight she needed the comfort.

"I'm going to sleep, I'm tired. Goodnight, Bethany."

There was a long pause before the hay mattress above her head rustled as the younger woman settled herself once more, "Goodnight, Sister."

Wrapping an arm over the warm bulk of her Mabari, Marea buried her face into the scruff of his neck, sobbing quietly – another perfectly good evening ruined. As Kodi whined softly she pulled away and wiped her eyes on the long sleeve of her shirt, giving him a watery smile as she shifted into a more comfortable position.

"Goodnight boy."

The blonde couldn't help but giggle as a large slobbery tongue rasped against her cheek, and rubbing her face clean she wrapped her arms round him once more and closed her eyes.

She was going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow, of that she was sure.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

Hawke had no interest in continuing the discussion she could vaguely remember she and her mother having last night; and so being the coward she was she had rose at the first light of dawn scarcely four or five hours since she'd crawled into bed and had dressed. Trying to explain to a normal dog that they needed to be quiet would have perhaps been hard, but not Kodi, the Mabari had seemed to take her 'sneak' order rather seriously; if she wasn't so worried Leandra might burst from her room at any moment to stop her escape she would have giggled at the way he flattened himself to the floorboards and shuffled forward.

Leaving a note on the table for Bethany telling her to meet her by Elegant's stall in the bazaar when she finally decided to get out of bed, Marea fled the house and the stench of rotting cabbage, wandering the streets that were only just starting to be bathed with the weak morning sun. She took the opportunity to enjoy the moment, but midday she would be cursing the heat and light, but for now she could close her eyes and imagine she was back in Ferelden.

Thanks to Varric the night before her purse had needed to be re-filled with some of the expedition fund, something that she hadn't been overly pleased about when she'd cracked her eyes open, head pounding and tongue fuzzy, and remembered what had happened when she'd gone to the Hanged Man. As she passed the armour store, downing a bottle of elfroot potion to stop the raging Bronto running around her skull, or at least dull the throbbing a little, she found herself pausing to appreciate the wares, Kodi pressed to her knees to stop her from staggering as her sore eyes got used to the morning light.

Squinting at the set of leathers on the armour stand Hawke's fingers brushed across the heavier purse at her hip, biting her lower lip; it was necessity only. Or potions or to pay for their current belongings to be repaired but the idea of having armour that was hers, not something that a balding, nug humping bastard had given her when the leathers she'd bought from Ferelden with her had all but disintegrated, was far too appealing. She found herself coming up with an argument against her own mind as to why she should treat herself to the armour; not that she was putting up much of a counter argument.

Oh to the void with it, she'd buy the leathers and suffer the consequences later. If her migraine was anything to go by she was going to have a bad day anyway, so why not spoil herself a little before the demons sprung and her sister got here? Pointing it out to the proprietor Marea left barely five minutes later with it tucked under her arm and made a mad dash to the Hanged Man; she needed to pick up Varric before they went to question Irene and she could change there.

"Good morning, Coriff."

The balding man looked up from the filthy glass he was cleaning with a threadbare rag and offered her a small, toothless smile, inclining his head in her direction. He pressed a finger to his lips and gestured towards the numerous drunkards passed out on tables around the open expanse of the bar and she nodded in acknowledgement, wrapping her fingers in the thick scruff of fur and skin at the back of Kodi's neck to keep him nearby. Together they slowly picked their way through the bodies slouched on the sticky floor and benches and up the steps to Varric' suite.

She almost felt like a scoundrel when she crept inside of his rooms to find the dwarf still asleep and in bed, no doubt nursing a hangover of his own, but mentally scolded herself; Varric was a grown man with a healthy attitude towards women (from what she'd seen last night when he'd been outlandishly flirting with one of the barmaids) and would probably not take offense to her finding him in a state of undress. So she'd quietly shied round towards the fireplace where she could change in peace and set about changing from one set of battered leathers to the new set she'd just acquired, the Mabari sat just behind her to warn her if anyone approached.

Hawke had had one leg in the thin drakeskin breeches when she heard a quiet cough behind her, and she turned with a barely contained shriek to see her (previously unknowing) host standing behind her, a bathrobe round his shoulders and openly staring at her thighs and, to her horror, her exposed stomach and breasts. Scrabbling to cover herself she pulled the abandoned leathers over her chest and backed into the corner, glowering down at Kodi who seemed utterly taken with this new game and was bounding about in circles.

"Some bloody guard dog you are..."

Varric chuckled and leant his hip on the arm of one of the many chairs around his table, arms crossed over his chest. "Now this wasn't quite what I was expecting to wake up to. Not that I'm complaining of course, I can think of far worse things than having a beautiful, almost naked woman trying to wiggle her way into a pair of breeches."

"Will you avert your eyes!" she hissed her face beetroot red as she shifted under his lecherous grin and only relaxed when the dwarf turned his back to her. Her dignity safe, for now, she finished squirming into the breeches, which looked much tighter than they felt, belted them and tugged on her shirt, tugging the sleeves down from where she bunched them by her elbows. "You can...look round now."

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but to what do I owe the pleasure at this blighted hour of the morning?"

Sighing Marea sat down on the edge of the table and set about tugging on her boots and strapping the greaves over her shins. She seemed to be thinking hard on what she was about to say and actually paused for a moment before she looked over at him with a sad smile. "Mother and I had a bit of a spat last night...We both said some pretty hurtful things and – well I'm being a coward and hiding, then I saw these and decided I had to have them."

_Well...the only one who actually said anything hurtful was me..._

"Ahh. Right. I have something I wanted to give you buy the way," he continued briskly, glazing over the sudden awkwardness in the air as he fished through his coat pocket hanging on the wall. Tossing a coin purse in her direction he chuckled, "Now you've learnt your lesson you can have this back, put it in the expedition fund to make up for your outlandish buy."

Smiling sadly, the blonde nodded. "Thanks, Varric."

She tried to ignore the way Varric was looking at her, his gaze something akin to pity, and picked up the re-enforced dark drakeskin corset, slipping her arms through the thin straps and quietly set about tightening the laces from her stomach up over the swell of her breasts. Quietly she tested her movement, swinging her arm in a long arch and arched her back into a handstand; the drakebone dug into her waist a little but it wasn't something that restricted her and would yield with more wear.

Placing her feet back down on the floor she was grateful to see a mug of something steaming hot and the familiar waft of the herbal tea hit her nostrils. Raising her eyebrow at her companion she lifted it to her lips and took a sip, closing her eyes at the tangy flavour and recognizable flavour of...

"Are you teasing me again?" she asked honestly, placing her drink down to shrug into her harness for her weapons and wrapped her belt of pouches around her neck.

"Tease _you_? I don't think even **I**have the balls to tease you, Elfroot."

Yes. He was teasing her.

Narrowing her eyes good naturedly Hawke folded her old leathers and placed them on the table before she took another sip. They would have to stay here until she could get them home and she winced at the promise of the argument she and her mother would undoubtedly have when she finally showed her face; reaching down she absently scratched behind Kodi's ears before tugging her hair out of the messy braid that looked like she'd done it in the dark. Which she had.

"I've been thinking – "

"That's not a healthy habit to get into, Hawke. Leave all the planning to me," he chuckled and grinned when the blonde stuck her tongue out at him childishly.

"**I've been thinking **that we should go look at the Chanter's Board for work," she continued on, blushing when his gaze turned incredulous. "Don't look at me like that, dwarf, there are always jobs on the Chanter's Board."

Varric remained silent for a moment, picking out his words carefully before saying, "We're not a charity, Elfroot...Besides I thought you didn't believe in the Maker."

"I don't, but whether or not I believe in the Maker has nothing to do with the fact that rich nobles put small tasks on there that they pay well for. It's worth a look right? I mean the day before I met you there was this man wandering around asking if anyone had seen his wife's dog...Had a stupid name, something like Truffles – Tha – no...Taffy I think. But the point was that Kodi found the daft creature trapped in a crate and when I handed him over I got a couple of sovereigns for my trouble. Nobles are always willing to part with their money for shit they can't be bothered to do themselves."

"Whatever you say, Hawke. You're the boss."

_Too damn right I'm the boss._

Combing her fingers through it to loosen the knots she noticed Varric watching her avidly, eyes hooded in concentration. She was afraid to ask exactly what was going through that mind of his, it was probably something to do with turning their morning into an action packed tale where the bedazzling heroine and her charming dwarf took out an entire platoon of corrupted guards void bent on taking a poor maidens dignity. However he didn't look away as he usually did when she turned her scrutiny on her and she shifted awkwardly. "What?"

"You look different with your hair down you know. It's longer than you would have expected," he explained and she watched, turning a soft shade of pink, as liquid gold eyes traced the flaxen curls down to the curve of her behind, now very defined thanks to the well fitting breeches. Perhaps she should have kept the old leathers, these actually showed her figure – Maker help them all.

Snorting she tossed her head side to side a couple of times before setting to work on braiding said hair, "How so?"

"It softens you; with it up you're Hawke, the stunning woman who could cut your heart out and feed it to you without batting an eyelid, with it down you look like a woman, one who could charm your heart out of your chest with a bat of her eyelids," he said, perhaps a little shocked at the apprehension. He knew of course that there was a person beneath the persona he'd been creating but the idea that she was a living, breathing, feeling, loving woman with hopes and fears was a little more insight than he wanted.

"Don't be ridiculous, Varric," Marea chuckled and looked over her shoulder at him, tugging the plait to one side so she could finish it off. "I'm a rogue, not a woman."

"They can't be the same person?"

"Not according to my mother, no," she remarked dryly, binding the base before teasing small curls from the main body to hang around her face. She'd never done it before, but Varric immediately approved, she wasn't a man so she needn't look like one; he'd drive that home even if it took him weeks, months even years to get through to her.

"So what does your mother think you are?"

"Not sure," the blonde answered with a shrug and a sad smile. "I think the spawn of the Archdemon always works well."

"Nonsense. You're a beautiful woman, Hawke. There isn't any reason why people can't see you for what you are every now and then. Now, if you excuse me, I need to get ready."

* * *

"There you are! I've been waiting here for ages where have you been?"

Varric, Hawke and Kodi padded over to the apostate, her sister wearing a sheepish smile as they got closer and Bethany saw the new leathers. A short look passed over the brunette's face as she took in Marea's appearance, a look that was suspiciously akin to jealousy (though the blonde sibling convinced herself she must have just been imagining it) and waited for the two rogues to explain themselves.

"Sorry Bethany, Varric takes _forever_to get ready. You see that chest hair; each single strand is set in place with infinite care – it was a mystery to behold."

The dwarf snorted and gently pushed Hawke's hip with a feral grin, "Says she who, in all her naked splendour, was trying to shimmy her way into those breeches. I think the proprietor forgot to tell you that you needed to sew yourself into them each morning."

Bethany watched them in silence for a moment, silently seething over how well the pair got on; she knew it was selfish, but she wanted the attention to be on her, like it had back in Lothering. She wanted the old Marea back, the one from before Papa died, where Bethany had been able to tell her older sister what to do and she would do it. It seemed that in Kirkwall being pretty wasn't enough, not unless you were a noble with the money to back you up and her sister had something that she didn't, a noticeable ability to look after herself which translated itself into one thing only; sex appeal. Aveline preferred Marea – that much was blatantly obvious from the way the woman looked out for her and now Varric had fallen for her charms...But why had she been naked?

_Oh Maker...She slept with him. That has to be it; she must have slept with him and that's why they're so close._

Jealousy didn't suit the little ray of sunshine one bit, Varric decided, and Hawke seemed all but oblivious to it. It might have been a confidence booster if she had realised that he sister was envious of her but he decided to take neither side. Whatever was going on between them both could stay between them until they saw fit to sort it out; he knew he certainly didn't want people nosing about the drama that was his and Bartrand's relationship.

"How did you sleep?"

The youngest Hawke sister was jerked out of her reverie at her sibling's question and turned her attention to Marea, who was crouched down next to Kodi affectionately rubbing his ears, prompting several loud, and excited, whimpers as his short tail attempted to wag it's way free of his bulk. Shrugging she chose the most spiteful thing she could think of without outright insulting her: "Alright, once you and mother stopped shouting at each other. She seemed quieter than usual this morning..."

With a soft, and somewhat disinterested, _hmmm_, Hawke got to her feet and turned her piercing gaze on Bethany, enjoying the way she squirmed under the almost-glare. "Shall we get going then? We have a Grey Warden to find."

"What?"

Ah yes, Bethany didn't know yet. Giving Varric a meaningful look over her shoulder for him to fill her in she quietly set about scaling the steps to Irene's Ferelden Imports so they could ask her a few friendly questions and pushed open the door.

The place was full to the brim, the dingy walls lined with the grimy faces of the desperate; and though it was as clean as was possible in such a building in Lowtown the rancid smell of body odour, stale blood and pass permeated the air. It was a place for refugees to come for help, and they seemed to be cracking under the strain. At the forefront of the 'shop' stood a stern looking woman with plain, clothing and brown hair hanging around her face; the poor lady had put in an effort, but nothing could hide the tell-tale dark circles beneath her eyes.

"Will everyone please _step back_!" she shouted over the cries of the destitute; pleas for assistance, food, money, work, _**help**_.

"Bethany, you wait outside with Kodi, make sure he doesn't run off and upset a cart would you?" Hawke asked quietly, glancing down at the Mabari at their feet who was trying to cover himself with as much dust as possible. The younger woman looked like she was about to protest but at a sharp look she sighed and nodded, taking Kodi by the ruff and dragged him back outside.

Marea slowly walked past the long cue, gently pushing her way through the crowds and not one person tried to stop her; she got the distinct feeling it was because she was so well equipped, not to mention she'd had to school her features into a mask of quiet indifference. Scenes like this made her want to vomit, especially knowing that there were people in Hightown who could do something about this. It wouldn't cost them much either, if everyone of them put in one or two sovereigns then people like Irene could house these poor sods.

"Please you gotta help! The baby's come early; Mama's bleeding you gotta help her!"

The woman Irene sighed and ran a hand over her face, turning to nod to one of the assistants who got to her feet and disappeared out the back. "I'll send word to the healer but..."

"My boy can't move, there was an accident in the Bone Pit and – "

As Hawke and Varric gently muscled their way through the last few refugees Irene raised her hand to silence the man, turning to look at the well armed newcomers. After a long moment of silence she slowly opened her mouth to speak, "If you're seeking aid, leave your name with my girl, we serve everyone here...no one fled the Blight and Ferelden without trouble, but I **can't**give priority to those who had already found shelter and work."

"Is there any way I can assist these people?" Marea asked quietly, looking around the grimy faces with hard eyed children peering out at her from beneath filthy cloaks – her heart squeezed again and she sent a silencing look in Varric's direction as he mumbled her name. Probably to discourage her from giving her help – the miser.

"If you've coin to spare we won't turn it down, leave it in the donation box at the front. Anything else?"

The blonde fell silent for a moment, choosing her words carefully before she tentatively broached the subject she'd come to ask about. "I'm actually looking for someone, and I heard you knew where I could find them; a Ferelden Grey Warden..."

Irene's eyes hardened to flints at the question and Hawke immediately regretted being so forward. She should have lied, bribed, anything... "The only Ferelden Grey Warden I know of is sat on the Throne. We're out of the Blight's path now, what need would you have for a Warden?"

"The healer was one of 'em once, weren't he? A Warden?"

At that moment Hawke could have kissed the woman who had cried about her mother being in labour and she made a mental note to give the girl some coin before she left. Irene however sent her a withering look and folded her arms defensively across her chest. "Well he isn't anymore, and busy enough without asking fool questions about it."

"Then I'll be sure to only ask very clever questions about it."

Another narrowed glare was sent her way. "I do not joke, Serah. You see what our people suffer in Kirkwall. They have no jobs, no homes; most cannot even buy bread. But this healer, he serves them without thought for coin; he's closed their wounds, delivered their children. He's a good man; I wouldn't see him handed over to the blighted Templars."

Hawke mentally sighed and closed her eyes; there were always, always Templars.

"He's a mage then?"

At the solemn nod she received Marea offered the woman a wry smile, "Tell me he's got gorgeous eyes and a killer smile and I'll marry him on the spot, mage or no."

Irene smiled sadly. "He's got the eyes, but I've never seen him smile. I think he's lost more than all of us, somehow. But I suppose it's not my secret to keep, Anders has certainly been free enough with his services. Refugees in Darktown know – to find the healer, look for the lit lantern. If you have need enough, Anders will be within."

Inclining her head in thanks the blonde reached for her coin purse and emptied a couple of silver onto her hand turning to the teenage girl who had inadvertently assisted her. Taking her hand she pressed the coin into her palm and smiled warmly down at her, watching in delight as her eyes widened impossibly. Marea wasn't sure whether or not to recoil from the embrace suddenly forced upon her, but she simply bore the thanks in silence before striding to the exit, dropping a couple of gold pieces into the box on her way out.

"You're a real soft touch you know that?" Varric grumbled accusingly as she tied the pouch to her belt once more.

Smiling sheepishly Marea shrugged and nodded to Bethany who walked over slowly to meet them, the Mabari bouncing wildly around her feet. She quickly retold everything that had been said inside the shop and the younger woman nodded in agreement.

"No mage should suffer for an accident of birth."

"I agree," Hawke said quietly and for once their gaze softened as they looked at each other; for all their animosity towards each other at times they wouldn't live without the other. "But it's not an accident of birth, mages are dangerous, yes, but they are what they are. There are plenty of people who don't have magic who are more likely to kill a man."

They were suddenly interrupted as Kodi let out a vicious snarl, crouching onto his forepaws dangerously as a large group of armed Ferelden men stomped towards them. Placing her hand on his head as a silent signal for him to stay Marea settled her unnerving gaze on the crowd, frowning slightly.

"We heard you in there; askin' about the healer. Don't think we don't know what happens to mages in Kirkwall!"

She'd been about to defend herself when Bethany suddenly jumped to her rescue, much to both of their surprise. "Look! We're Fereldens just like you trying to stay out of the Templar's sight!"

The leader frowned, taken aback by the information and he silently scrutinized their faces; he looked a little dubious as he stared at the younger woman but as soon as he looked a little closer at the blonde's features he relaxed a fraction. "I- I'm sorry. With your clothes I took you for a Kirkwaller...Maker bless our good King Alistair," he said meekly and bowed awkwardly before the group dispersed.

As loathed as she was to admit it Hawke was rather glad Bethany had been there, because Maker knew she would have put her foot in it and blood would have been shed.

"Well...Looks like we're taking Darktown."

"Yes, and while we're down there we can locate the cellars for the Amell estate," Bethany added matter-of-factly, staring at her sister. It was obvious from the way Marea froze for a moment that she didn't want to do as her sibling asked, but after a moment or so of conflicted silence the blonde bobbed her head in acknowledgement and started down the steps, following Varric's instructions on how to get into the sewers.

* * *

_Maker how do people live down here?_

The question and the realisation that this could have been them had they been less lucky had hit her like a raging Ogre and she'd barely suppressed the bile that rose in the back of her throat. And she had thought the people in Irene's store had been desperate; they had only had a taste of the void that was Darktown. It was aptly named; the only light that seemed to illuminate the blanket of forced twilight came from the scattered lanterns in high brackets along the walls and from the luminous moss that covered said walls.

Consequently it hadn't taken them long to find the lantern above two large doors that belonged to the healer, and Varric had all but had to drag the blonde away from the ever growing group of children before they completely leeched her of all her coin.

"You're a guard dog," he complained and looked down to Kodi as Marea silently walking in front of them, seething no doubt. "Guard her from people who want her money."

The Mabari had cocked his head in the dwarf's direction with sad, forlorn eyes before barking once and bounded towards his mistress, growling softly at anyone who so much as made a move towards her before demanding attention from her with slobbery licks to her hand for his job well done. When no such praise was forth coming he sulked back to Varric with a whine.

"Don't worry. I'll get you some scraps later."

Rejuvenated by the promise of food Kodi dashed back to cut off another beggar, much to Hawke's frustration.

"Look! There's the cellar...right next to the Warden's clinic. Do you think we could just – "

"No Bethany," Marea said firmly and turned her disapproving gaze on the younger woman. "We're not going to rush headlong into a nest of slavers with a mage and two rogues. As and when I've learnt enough about the place we'll bring Aveline along to help us."

Ignoring the consequent tetchy grumblings under Bethany's breath about her overly prepared sibling, Hawke pushed the door open and slowly walked into the room. The walls had mostly been scraped free of moss and growth, though it looked like it might be starting to grow back, and had lines of makeshift canvas beds, bloodstained and battered. To the right was a small crude improvisation of an alter, where she assumed people could pray for their loved ones safe recovery or to beg the Maker to take their soul into his bosom.

For the most part the clinic was empty, save a worry worn woman, two men of differing ages and a boy, perhaps no more than eight, lying prone on a table. The younger of the two men was frowning in concentration, his hands aglow with healing magic that passed into and through the boy; he faltered for a moment, but it was a short moment. With a surge of willpower the light brightened and then receded entirely. The child sat up groggily and the woman, who Hawke assumed was his mother, sobbed in relief, clutching him to her as her husband reached out to gently squeeze the blonde's shoulder in thanks.

Seeing them standing just inside the doorway however, had the three refugees fleeing to the door and out of harm's way.

No one moved for a few seconds as Ander's regained his strength and Marea simply took the opportunity to scrutinize what she could see of the man. He was tall, of that there was no doubt, and though she was not a particularly tall woman she was certain that he would tower over Aveline; perhaps if Carver were still alive he might have had someone to keep him company up in the clouds. And from what she could see from the robes he wore he was well build, no doubt from his time in battle and then in helping to move sick people; blonde hair was tied at the back of his head.

Suddenly he whirled round on them, his staff suddenly in hand and he raised he free hand palm towards them in warning, his voice thick with anger. "I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation; why do you threaten it?"

_Maker_...Irene had been right about those eyes.

The sheer depth in them, the suffering and pain but also bright resilience staggered her for a moment. She'd only seen eyes like that on two other people; her father and...herself. Just as it looked like his patience was about to wear thin Hawke answered.

"An odd occupation for a Warden. Aren't you usually more about taint, darkspawn and death? Not healing and salvation."

Some form of recognition shone in those expressive eyes and he lowered his hand a fraction, watching them suspiciously. "Did the Wardens send you to bring me back? Well I'm not going - " he said petulantly and jabbed the tip of his crackling staff in her direction threateningly, "- those bastards made me get rid of my cat. Poor Ser-Pounce-Alot, he hated the Deep Roads."

Marea couldn't help but actually smile, though she expertly hid it behind a cough and a raised hand. "You er...had a cat called Ser-Pounce-Alot in the Deep Roads?"

"He was a gift; a noble beast. Almost got ripped in two by a Genlock once, he swatted the bugger on the nose, drew blood too. The blighted Wardens said he made me too soft...I had to give him to a friend in Amaranthine," he continued fondly only pausing when he noticed the look the blonde woman was giving him. "You look confused."

"Well, I just always thought that joining the Grey Wardens was for life."

"That's only partly true, the hopelessly tainted by the darkspawn and plagued by nightmares about the Archdemon part doesn't go away. But it turns out that if you keep a low profile you don't have to wear the uniform or go to the parties."

Hawke nodded once, then twice and sighed, "It sounds like you've been through a lot. It can't have been easy to get where you are now, I'm sorry."

Anders' gaze softened slightly at her compassion and slowly placed his staff back to its station against the wall and he simply nodded in thanks. Perhaps in another time he would have been outrageously flirting with this woman by now, but age had mellowed him somewhat, she was beautiful, if not somewhat sharp at the same time; but she certainly knew how to dress herself. His eyes having subtly roved her slender frame his eyes flickered to the woman just behind her, and more importantly the staff at her back.

Another mage and an apostate from the looks of things. It explained the older woman's understanding where he was concerned.

As the man looked over at Bethany and Marea saw the recognition pass over his features she stiffened. But of course _Bethany_ would have to ruin it. For one long moment she'd actually found a man who, for the first time in years, had caught her interest; and now he was looking at _her_ just like everyone else. Of course she shouldn't have expected any less, the two had so much in common. They were both mages, both apostates, why in the Maker's name did she think for one moment that he might have been attracted to someone like **her**?

It was the last time she listened to Varric. Her mother had been right; she couldn't hold a candle to the beauty that was her younger sister.

Her next words shocked them both.

"We need a way into the Deep Roads; you can tell me willingly or not."

Surprise flitted over his face for a second or so before he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't threaten me, _little girl_," he hissed his gaze sliding to the Mabari now growling a warning by his mistress' feet, once again shocked when a restraining hand wrapped around the thick fur at the back of its neck. Bitch didn't suit this woman, she was too kind for that, even he could tell. "You have no idea what I've had to do to even get here. If you think that you can waltz in here and demand th – but...a favour for a favour, does that sound like a fair deal?"

The blonde, who had the decency to look a little shame faced at the tone she'd used, nodded complacently, her long fingers momentarily distracting him as her carded them through the fur on the Mabari's back. "That would be a fair trade. Of course I'll help."

Smirking Ander's raised an eyebrow, watching the hint of a flush raise on her cheeks; he'd embarrassed her. Good. "You don't ask for my terms...what if I was asking for the Knight-Commander's head?"

"Then I'd glad cut the bitch's head off myself and arrange her on a pike so you can see her at your leisure," Hawke ground of softly, her gaze ablaze as she looked at him, behind her she felt Bethany shift and she turned to offer her sibling a honest smile. She meant it; for the fear and pain the woman had put Bethany, her mother and by association herself over the last year the Wild's scum deserved no less.

Once again her words surprised him, and the fervent belief and bitterness that had encompassed her stare had sent his mind reeling. Yes, in another time he would most definitely have been trying to charm those skin tight breeches off of that pert little arse. Coughing once Anders had to suppress a small smile, "Sounds tempting...but that's not what I ask. I have maps of the Deep Roads in this area, but there's a price for them; I came to Kirkwall to help a friend. A mage, a prisoner in the wretched Gallows. The Templars learned of my plan to free him, help me bring him safely past them and you shall have your maps."

"Marea..." Both the blonde and Anders turned to look at Bethany as she tentatively whispered her sister's name and looked between them carefully before she continued. "I don't like the sound of this...We don't need more of a reason for the Templars to chase us, if we're caught – "

"I'm afraid by this point if we're caught even out in the streets we'll both probably be put to death," Hawke cut across her sharply, sending an apologetic look in Ander's direction before turning to the brunette. "Besides, this is the _Gallows_ the place you're constantly telling me is worse than **death**, would you have me leave **you**there because it was too dangerous; you say a mage shouldn't suffer for an accident of birth, I'm not leaving an innocent man there to rot. Not to mention we need those maps," she turned back to the man in front of her and inclined her head, "but even if you couldn't help us I would still offer my services."

So perhaps she was going a little over board with trying to impress him, and she wasn't even sure if it was working, but she did believe that. A mage shouldn't be punished for being something they couldn't control; if people weren't so hypocritical as to use magic for when it was helpful to them she was certain the Divine would have had all children with magic killed the moment they showed signs.

"Thank you," Anders breathed and bowed his head in return, the hint of a smile on his lips as he continued. "It is hard to come across someone who shares my views, especially one who doesn't have magic themselves. But the woman accompanying you – your sister? – is an apostate as well, I shouldn't be surprised that you should want to keep her safe. Meet me at the Chantry tonight; I have sent word to Karl to be there, Maker willing we'll all walk away free men."

Smiling Marea folded her arms and shifted her weight onto one leg, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him, "I don't really want to put my fate in the hands of an absent father; I make my own luck. We'll see you tonight."

With that she turned on her heel and started towards the door they had entered through, gesturing for Varric and Bethany to follow her. As they passed through the exit the blonde paused and turned to look at the mage who was still watching them leave with a strange look on his face. "Oh, by the way Anders, I'm Marea Hawke, but call me Hawke, everyone else does." And with one last bob of her head she was gone.

"**Marea Hawke**?"

The mage tested the name once, then again, liking the way it sounded on his tongue. Well, she might not have faith in the Maker but he was almost certain that He had been smiling down on him when Hawke had stepped into his clinic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Four**

Hawke had spent the rest of the day finishing up loose ends in Lowtown with the help of Bethany and Varric, handling the Carta group playing on the populace's faith in the Maker with fake pouches of Andraste's ashes and collecting the 'accidental' pay from a guard from her troubles. The trip to the Chanter's Board had been eventful as well, the Grand Cleric herself had been there, arguing with a man in stunning gold and white armour and mail – a man she had later found out was the sole surviving heir to the throne in Starkhaven. Someone she wanted to know for obvious reasons – it would be good to have a prince in her debt.

The blonde had told the Sister on duty that she planned on taking up the task and had gotten a few details before leaving, sending the dwarf walking beside her a smug told-you-so look. The last stop of the day had been Aveline so she could plead for the future Guard-Captain's help with the apostate tonight; it had taken a little convincing but the red head had conceded that she owed Marea a favour and had promised to be in the square waiting for them.

After that however, with nothing else left to do, she had been forced to return home to face her mother.

Past the customary bob of her head, Marea hadn't said a word to Leandra as she entered the hovel she called home and had immediately gone to the desk, patting her uncle's shoulder as he groused about the number of letters she got. From the corner of her eye she could see the older woman watching her, only stopping when Bethany distracted her with soft whispers about their day.

Meeran had sent her a couple of notes, roughly scribbled on tattered bits of parchment stained with liquid of varying shade and hue – liquid that she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to think about. Despite their differences he'd promised to send work her way when the Red Iron couldn't finish the jobs themselves and she wasn't too proud to pick around his scraps; if it kept them fed and helped pay off this tall order for the expedition then she was game. Work from a dwarf called Anso and a merchant, Hubert, in Hightown...

_Urgh...Orleasians...Best leave Kodi here when we go to see him, or else he'll accuse me of being a 'flaming Dog Lord'._

Placing the letters aside she made a mental note to visit both of them and retrieved both purses of coin from the pouches on her belt before stalking to her room with her habitual thanks to Gamlen as the man finished their evening meal. Counting out the money she was putting towards the expedition fund Hawke sat on her bed, silently mulling over everything that had happened since she woke in the morning; Kodi snuffled at her hand, having gotten bored of trying to beg for leftovers from Gamlen and had padded in to check on his mistress, and she scratched behind his ears absently.

So far an argument hadn't been forthcoming, but she could feel the tension crackling and shifting in the atmosphere like the calm before a particularly bad storm - like when they'd been in the clinic and Anders' magic had swelled suddenly to fill the air with the tangy flavour of lightening and sulphur.

_Anders..._

Irene certainly _hadn't_ been exaggerating when she'd described him, but she agreed with the woman; the healer needed to smile more. And to her shock, and discomfort, she realised with a lurch that **she **wanted to be the one to make him smile; perhaps with a silly barb or from her inane clumsiness when she wasn't in combat. Marea could imagine what he would look like laughing, he had the hint of a dimple in his right cheek when he spoke and she was certain it would only deepen if he actually grinned, his teeth gleaming in the half-light of Darktown. He would look dangerous, and exhilarating; and those eyes would light up with joy as bright as any spell...

Groaning softly the blonde dug the heels of the palms into her eyes her body warming pleasantly as she thought about the apostate before slowly looking down at the Mabari at her feet. He lifted his head at the attention and whined in concern, only placated when she rubbed his muzzle, rolling her eyes at his daft behaviour. "You have no idea how lucky you are," she mumbled and bit her lower lip. "I wish I was a Mabari, and then someone could look after me all the time and I could just lie in front of the fire warming my forepaws."

Dinner had been even more awkward than usual. Gamlen sat grumpily at the head of the table as he did every other night, scowling down at his soup and day-old bread attentively...as if the liquid should suddenly congeal, hop from the bowl and make a break for the door – and knowing what his cooking was like Marea wasn't really surprised. She sat opposite him at the farthest end, prodding an over cooked carrot with the end of her spoon with a perpetual look of disgust; she'd offered Kodi the bread but even her 'eat-first-puke-it-up-later' Mabari turned his nose up at it. Bethany was oddly silent – usually she tried to fill the sordid event with chatter, hoping to get them to actually talk like 'normal' families, but tonight she just ate her soup in silence, her gaze flickering between their mother and her older sister.

Leandra was stock still, her hands in her lap and refusing to so much as touch the bile that Gamlen had seen fit to prepare for them; which, Hawke thought, was completely petulant and childish since she barely lifted a finger to help her brother around the house. After ten minutes or so of the suffocating silence she suddenly slammed her hand down on the table and got to her feet, glowering at her eldest.

"I forbid you from going to the Chantry tonight."

For a moment Marea was too shocked to say anything, her mouth comically open with her spoon half inside; however she quickly recovered and placed the mouthful of soup she'd been about to force down her throat back in the bowl and turned her cold eyes to her mother. "You **forbid me**from going to help a man save his friend?" she scoffed and leant back in her seat with a dark chuckle, watching as her fearsome war hound whimpered pathetically before shuffling under the table.

The older woman crossed her arms attempting to draw on her old reserves, the reserves that she had used when Marea had been much younger; when she'd still had a relationship with the girl. "He is an **apostate**, Marea and he wants you to help sneak him past the _Templars_, think of your sister."

"I'm not forcing Bethany to come," Hawke hissed and hopped to her feet, knocking her chair over in the process. "If she thinks it's too much of a risk then she is perfectly free to stay and hide behind your skirts. And unless you forgot, _mother_, Bethany is an apostate."

"This is different, young lady and you know it; she is your sister, she has never done a thing wrong in her life but this mage – "

"Does more than **Bethany** has done in her entire life - than **we** do. He helps people, he heals them and he does it even under the Templar's scrutiny so don't you dare stand there and have the gall to tell me that he's not worth helping."

Throwing her hands in the air Leandra advanced on her daughter until they were toe to toe, each female holding each other's fierce gaze as she raised a finger to point in Hawke's face. "I don't know what you're playing at or who you think you are Marea, but you are walking on thin ice. Gambling, drinking, running around Maker knows where at unholy hours of the morning and night? If your _father_was here and he saw you acting like this he would be utterly ashamed of you."

"Well father isn't here is he?" the blonde ground out quietly, the venom dripping from her words making Bethany's hair stand up on end. "And if he was I doubt he'd have let it get this far in the first place. You're the one that hasn't given a _shit_for years, you can't suddenly start acting like the worried, concerned mother as and when it suits you."

Turning on her heel Marea strode across the room to pick up her harness, swinging it over her shoulders and strapping it in place before sheathing her daggers in the scabbards at her back. Tearing open the parcels on the far table she restocked her pouches with potions, poisons and grenades before whistling to Kodi, watching stony-eyed as he tentatively crept from beneath the dining table and padded to her side.

Gamlen had gotten to his feet and was muttering to his sister in hushed tones trying to calm the woman down, though she was vehemently fighting against his attempts and cast dark, filthy looks in her daughter's direction. Bethany was still sat prone at the table staring down at her soup.

"Are you coming or not?"

The brunette looked up at her sister's flat question and slowly nodded, standing and disappearing to their room to retrieve her staff. She mumbled a soft goodbye to their near-hysterical mother and swept towards the door Hawke was holding open for her.

"If you walk out of that door, Marea, Andraste be my witness, I shant have a good word to say to you!"

Bethany felt her sibling stiffen impossibly at the threat and watched as the blonde turned to send a dark smirk over her shoulder, "And what have the last twelve years been? _Practise_? Curse my name as much as you like, _mother_, see if I care."

* * *

"Andraste's dimpled butt cheek, what's wrong with you?" Varric asked quietly as Hawke stormed towards him with Bethany and the Mabari cowering some distance behind her.

"Just another day in the Hawke household," she growled in answer making it perfectly clear that she didn't want to talk about what had just happened with anyone.

Marea took a deep breath and stopped in front of him, her hands curled into fists by her sides before she reached into one of the compartments on her belt to retrieve her gloves. Tugging them on in jerky movements and immediately started stalking to the large staircase cut into the stone that led up to Hightown.

"Let's go. Maker there had better be trouble; I need to stab something..."

* * *

As it was their trip to the Chantry had been surprisingly quiet; and Hawke's sour mood hadn't really improved – especially not when she heard her sister quietly giving the bare bones of the argument she and Leandra had had to Varric and Aveline.

She wasn't exactly sure what had stopped her from turning her wrath on the three people behind her, but it might have had something to do with the soft whimper Kodi had whined at her, almost in warning. And sighing, she'd reached down to pat the dog's head stiffly and forced herself to take a deep breath; fighting when she was fuming over something that had happened was never good, she got distracted and would then suffer for it by having to stitch up the wound later.

The knot of anger inside her stomach slowly loosened into a writhing snake of anxiety at the prospect of seeing Anders again, and she slowed her ascent of the long stairs to the Chantry until she was walking next to the red headed warrior. Smiling sheepishly in Aveline's direction she accepted the squeeze of her shoulder without comment before she jogged up the final couple with a force of will she wasn't sure she'd possessed.

The blonde haired man shifted from the shadows and Marea forced a smile in greeting; a gesture that was completely overlooked as he immediately jumped to business. It hadn't been the welcome she'd been hoping for – because she had come to never expect anything – and it stung a little. They were two beneficiaries who had something to gain from this venture going well. Nothing more, nothing less.

"I saw Karl go inside a few minutes ago. No Templars so far...are you ready?"

Hawke bobbed her head in answer, biting her lower lip nervously, before adding, "I didn't see anyone suspicious out here, but let's get this over with; I have a bad feeling about it."

Bethany frowned and shifted from foot to foot suddenly as anxious as her older sister; working for Meeran had done wonders for Marea in a way neither herself nor their mother had liked, and while it left the woman hard headed and with a short fuse it had given her an uncanny ability to tune her senses. And Hawke's gut feelings were never wrong – which meant things were about to get ugly.

"Alright. I'll handle the talking, you watch for Templars."

Without another word Anders turned to the extravagant doors and pushed hard against the smaller entrance for everyday use, sighing in relief as it slowly yielded to his weight before disappearing inside. The blonde's frown deepened a fraction and then with a sigh of her own she reluctantly followed after the man, sending a warning look to the rest of her party.

Marea only had a few things she truly hated; people who ignored the suffering of others, enclosed spaces, the smell of sickly perfume, spiders and Chantries. It wasn't particularly that the buildings were bad (because they were a place of worship) but rather the set out of the Chantries in general; they creaked, even in daylight, and seemed to germinate shadows that the numerous candles lit in clusters around the floor couldn't disperse...then there were the statues who's eyes watched you no matter where you hid. And there, right at the front, was Andraste herself, sword raised and judging you with all the severity of an angry mother; it shocked her that she had once wanted to be like her...it was sad to realise that life had changed her so much.

But now, in the dark, the shadows were thicker than ever and seemed to creep up on you when you weren't looking; it was like a living, breathing thing that was lurking just out of sight waiting for you to drop your guard before it swept you up and dragged you from the human world with no one to hear you scream...

Shuddering, Hawke quietly followed Anders through the nave and up the steps to the second floor shaking her head both physically and mentally to dispel her growing sense of dread. And when the man she assumed was Karl simply stood with his back to them as they approached simply sent her instincts screeching at her to flee; to turn her friends around and march them straight out of the Chantry.

It wasn't until the blonde mage was a couple of feet away from him that Karl spoke, and it was a dead, lifeless voice. "Anders, I know you too well; I knew you would never give up..."

"What's wrong...why are you talking li – "

_Oh Maker...They – They made him..._

"I was too rebellious, like you; the Templars knew I had to be...made an example of."

Marea's eyes softened and her heart twisted painfully as she stared at the brand of Tranquillity burned into the flesh of Karl's forehead; and for an obscure moment she couldn't help but wonder if it hurt...could a Tranquil feel pain? Or did the Templars brand you before they did the rite, as a sort of cruel taunt at what was to come.

"Maker, please _no_."

"How else will mages ever master themselves?" the Tranquil continued emotionless, oblivious to the agony his friend was feeling; the agony written all over his face. "You'll understand, Anders..."

The air shifted behind them, it wasn't much, perhaps the just a moment of irregularity in the steady waft of incense, but it was all the warning she needed as Hawke reached up to unsheathe her daggers, Aveline following suit and shrugged her shield onto her arm. Looking between both Karl and the shadows she could finally start making out she frowned; the poor fool had trapped them, and Anders had taken the bait...

"Once the Templars show you how to control yourself...This is the apostate."

The blonde rogue had been about to hiss a warning to the Templars now blocking her way out (she didn't like being trapped, it reminded her too much of the years spent hiding in their house as she played nanny for Bethany who couldn't be trusted to control her powers) but before she could even open her mouth a short, sharp burst of pale blue light erupted from behind her, momentarily casting an eerie glow to the surrounding area.

The bellow of refusal that accompanied the flash had Hawke turning to check the mage was alright just in time to see him drop to his knees, cradling his head and she tentatively stepped forwards, trusting her friends to watch her back. "Anders? Are you al – "

The dark smoke that had started to form around his body ceased after a second or so, leaving the putrid stench of burning flesh and fissures of that same liquid blue light across his body, ablaze beneath his robes and across his skin. It was his _eyes_however that momentarily terrified her; those once compassionate eyes were now full of light, glowing brightly and ever shifting as fire exploded around him.

He was on his feet in an instance; and she wasn't whether or not to turn her blades on the Templars or on him. He was an abomination...he had to be, for that was no mere magic; it made Bethany's more potent spells look like cheap parlour tricks. However she made up her mind the moment his spoke, _"You will never take another mage as you took him!"_

The tone was foreign and distorted, but the flavour of his voice was infinitely Anders; until he proved himself to be...dangerous to others she would stand by him.

Nodding her head in Aveline's direction she let out a wild battle cry before launching herself into feral attack, her blades slicing through the gaps in their armour, stabbing into the soft flesh behind their knees where their greaves didn't offer their protection and otherwise incapacitating them for her red headed friend to finish off. Bethany and Varric kept their distance, picking off those who sought to flank Hawke and the warrior in perfect synchronization.

With a shriek of pain Marea rolled away from the Hunter who had sneaked behind her and embedded one of his daggers into her left shoulder, easily penetrating the fabric of her shirt and gritted her teeth when her ill-advised manoeuvre made the blade tear through her flesh. Through the sting of tears she saw Aveline, Bethany and Varric each turn to rain bloody fury down on the man but before any of them could so much as move an impossibly large fireball from Anders collided with the Templar, sending him and the other two unfortunate men nearby flying over the balcony to land crushed by the feet of Andraste herself.

She was in too much pain to think on the irony of it long, her good arm already pulling the bandages from her pouch, awkwardly turning to press it against the gaping wound. Her sibling quickly moved to help, using Marea's own dagger to cut away the fabric around the bloody abrasion and cursed her lack of healing knowledge before she apologised quietly when a rough tug jarred the injury, trusting Aveline, Varric and Anders to keep the attention of the Templars on them.

"H-How bad is it, Bethany?" the blonde asked through gritted teeth, though she could see from the younger woman's pale face that it wasn't good and from the rancid smell of burnt hair she bitterly realised that the fireball that had destroyed her foe .

"You should have seen a hit like that coming a mile away."

It was a distraction technique, but a welcome distraction technique.

"Yes, I should have."

The short answer with no sarcasm was proof enough of how much pain her sister was in and Bethany jumped as a large shadow passed over them for a moment, sword extended over their heads before the offending Templar was torn down by a feral Kodi, his vicious snarls and bites as well as the man's dulled screams their only company for a long moment. It didn't take long to dress the wound, but it did take a while for Marea to get to her feet once the fighting was over.

"Who's a good doggy?" she praised quietly as a bloody Kodi padded over to her, his tail wagging even as he whined in concern. "I'm alright, boy, thanks to you."

The Mabari barked happily and licked her good hand; following close after her heels to make sure no more harm came to his mistress.

Shooing her sister away with her uninjured arm the blonde tied the scabbards of her sheathed daggers to her waist and slowly made her way over to a non-glowing Anders and a strangely alert Tranquil.

"I...Anders, what did you do? It's like you bought a piece of the Fade into our world. I had already forgotten what that felt like..."

Raising an eyebrow at Karl Hawke winced and looked round at the mage now shifting anxiously from foot to foot; he didn't look like an abomination anymore...but just because he didn't look like one didn't mean he **wasn't**one. "What did you do? Not the Fade part, the angry glowy bit?"

"It's like a gateway to the Fade inside of you, glowing like a beacon."

Hawke had to bite back her somewhat irritable, pain induced snipe about repeating one's self and ignoring her question, but thankfully Anders stopped her from saying anything she'd regret. "I have some...unique circumstances, yes..."

_That's it...I'm going to grill his arse when we get back to Darktown...Maybe after a couple of stiff drinks, but I'll get my answers._

"But Karl, what happened? How did they get you?"

"The Templars here are far more vigilant than in Ferelden, they found a letter I was writing you. You cannot imagine it, Anders; all the colour, all the music in the world...gone. I would gladly give up my magic – but this...I'll never be whole again...**Please**, kill me before I forget again, I don't know how you bought it back but it's fading!"

"Karl, no."

Frowning Marea stepped forward, resting her good hand on the blonde mage's shoulder before shaking her head. "Bethany calls being made Tranquil a fate worse than death, and I know I wouldn't want to live in a world where I cannot feel, laugh or love. If you don't kill him he'll just be used as a puppet; you have to help him."

Ander's shrugged her hand from him a little more vicious than he'd intended, in his Fade ridden state he hadn't seen the full extent of the woman's injuries and she made little show of their severity other than the smallest of winces. "I'm so sorry, Karl...I should have...if I'd – "

"Now! It's fading. I ca – why do you look at me like that?"

The sudden change from desperation to indifference made Hawke's heart twinge again and she turned to offer the blonde some form of privacy, warding away her companions concerns with a look and took a swig of elfroot potion. It would have to do until she got home and could attend to the wound properly. She heard Anders mumble his goodbye and the dull thud as the dagger found the soft flesh of the Tranquil's stomach through the thin robes and closed her eyes to quell the nausea.

Death in battle she could ignore, pass it off as a 'my life or theirs' experience, but to kill in cold blood, even with a mercy blow, still made her want to vomit.

"We should leave before more Templars come."

* * *

Marea had been ecstatic when they finally got back to his clinic, her head pounding and her legs shaking at the exertion but she refused to leave and heed her friend's advice until she had her answers.

"So," she said quietly as Anders stopped with his back to them and she leant against the table wearily, the bandages wrapped around the left hand side of her shoulder and chest starting to redden with the bleeding that had started up again halfway down to Darktown. "Is this where you tell me you're an abomination?"

"You're wrong," the mage answered after a moment and looked over his shoulder at her, "But not far wrong...I...This is hard to explain; when I was in Amaranthine I met a spirit of Justice trapped outside of the Fade, we became friends and he recognized the injustice that mages in Thedas suffer..."

The blonde had to stop herself from groaning and raised her good hand to rub at her temples. She was going to keep this short and sweet, and then she could go to sleep. "What does this have to do with your eyes glowing?"

"To...live outside the Fade he needed a host, I offered to help him; we were going to work together to help bring justice to every child ever torn from their mother's arms to be sent to the circle, but...I guess I had too much anger in me. Once we joined he...changed."

Maker this was getting difficult to understand. Why couldn't it have been a black and white answer; yes I am an abomination and you're going to try and kill me, or no, I'm just the gorgeous, kind spirit healer – let me heal your shoulder that looks painful. "So...let me get this straight, you have a spirit of Justice living in your head?"

"It's not like that; he's gone now, he's part of me...It's not like we can have a conversation, I hear his thoughts as my own, not even the greatest scholar could tell where I end and he begins," Anders finished quietly, only now taking the opportunity to look at the vivid white, slowly turning red, bandages and frowned. She hadn't mentioned it...but he could tell from the way she was hunched for support against the table and her Mabari that she was in pain, and yet here she was having a conversation with him and trying to...understand.

He couldn't help but feel his heart tighten. But she was something...

"Don't get me wrong, but that really didn't look like a happy, benevolent spirit to me..." _It looked down right pissed off is what it looked like..._

"Since when is justice happy? Justice is hard, but my anger; when I see Templars now, things that have always outraged me but could never do anything about, He comes out; and he is no longer my friend Justice, but a force of Vengeance and he has no grasp of mercy."

"Ah...that would explain the look..." she mumbled under her breath.

_The sexy, tortured fuck me I'm a rebel mage look..._

"Excuse me? What look? Do I really scream 'I'm possessed, stay away?'" he asked irritably and Hawke actually _pouted_, and then grimaced in pain.

Shaking her head she smiled apologetically and explained. "Irene said she'd never seen you smile, that she thought you'd lost more than most...I can see what she meant is all. Is there...anything I can do?"

His gaze softened and he immediately backed down from his defensive attitude. "You're...the first one I've ever told this, thank you for not running away, my maps are yours as am I if you wish me to join your expedition. I thought I was done with the Grey Wardens, but if you have any need of me until then, I'll be waiting here."

Hawke offered him a wry smile before grunting heavily as she got to her feet, swaying once, then twice before steadying herself – she felt drunk, and not the pleasant drunk either. "Somehow I don't think I could run even if I wanted to," she chuckled and patted Kodi's neck gently as she turned to leave. "But you're free to tell me anything and to come and see me if you need my assistance, I spend a lot of time in the Hanged Man."

"Wait," he said briskly and quickly walked after her, blocking her way out. "Is your sister going to heal you when you get home?"

Marea snorted. "Bethany? **Heal**me? Maker no, she can't cast the simplest of spells to extract a splinter. No, I was going to apply some salve and use the good old method of needle and twine; it's worked wonders in the past."

It was clear from the look on the healer's face that her attempted bravado didn't fool him.

"Sit down. You're not going anywhere."

Kodi growling warningly at her feet, but she brushed her fingers over his ears and with a heavy sigh nodded once, turning to her sister, "Tell mother where I am?"

The brunette nodded and they each said their farewells, Varric and Aveline wishing her a speedy recovery – the latter of whom pinned Anders under a weight glare that told him to be careful with the blonde, and finally left the two alone. For a moment she shifted anxiously, unsure of what to do but the mage gently pushed her down onto one of the canvas beds before crouching down in front of her, his nimble fingers making quick work of the enforced drakeskin corset.

He'd done this before...

"W-What're you doing?" she mumbled groggily and tried to push his hands away with her own.

"I can't see the damage that's been done with all of these clothes, now _stop squirming_."

The short command had her stiffen immediately and the blonde let Anders slide her corset, gloves and what was left of her butchered shirt (courtesy of Bethany) off her shoulders before he removed the bandages. He sucked in a hissing breath as he gently poked and prodded around the inflamed skin; there was no way she would have been able to sew this up, the woman was insane...Or simply used to looking after herself.

He couldn't help but lower his gaze over the rest of her exposed torso and frowned at the scarring he found there, some had been healed by magic, but the majority had been sewn, some clumsily and others well as if she'd had the help of another...He couldn't help the protective surge that washed through him; he'd seen her fight, knew she could surely kill him in seconds, but the way she blearily blinked at him and at how tiny she really was he couldn't help the emotion. As irrational as it was.

His hands glowed with the soft healing light and gently bathed her in it, supporting her against his chest as she slumped exhaustedly against him, her fingers twisting in the fabric beneath his open robes. It took a good half an hour before he was satisfied that she'd be able to wield her daggers when she woke, perhaps a little stiff, but still able to manoeuvre.

Which left him with the conundrum of what to do with the half naked blonde he was cradling.

Sighing Anders gently scooped her up, collecting the bodice from the floor, (but left the ruined shirt to be trampled underfoot) and relocated her to the somewhat softer bed he used for himself. He, Hawke forgive him, removed her boots and greaves before peeling her breeches from her legs and helped her into one of his much larger shirts; smiling slightly as she mumbled and fought against him before settling against the furs, tucking her hands beneath her chin as she rolled onto her side. Pulling the blankets over her the mage set about closing the clinic for the night, extinguishing the lantern and locking the doors.

It was only then he noticed that his chivalry had cost him his bed.

Maker what he did for a pretty face.

Pulling one of the canvas beds a little closer he divested Marea of one of the two pillows and one of the many blankets before changing himself, mindful to wear some trousers and a nightshirt for her sake at least before he too settled down for the night; taking one long last look at the blonde woman before blowing out the candle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Five**

Had Gamlen bought new blankets when they hadn't been looking? Because, Marea decided as she tangled her legs in the fabric and buried her face into her pillow, they were much warmer than usual, and felt suspiciously like wolf pelts beneath her fingers. _Hmmmm_...not to mention they smelled nice. A lot like that mage Anders; she'd noticed when he had been healing her the night before that he'd smelt like cedar, with the slightest tangy undertone that she couldn't entirely place...And her blankets smelled like he'd been rolling on them for hours...She had left her hair up in the braid as well - she must have just tumbled into bed when she got home without even bothering to brush it.

Come to think of it she didn't remember getting changed or getting into bed...or getting home at all...

_Shit! Where the in void am I?_

Sitting up suddenly, her shoulder twinging at the speed of the movement and at the cool air that hit it (the overly large neck of her bedshirt had slid down over the course of the night) she looked around wildly, taking in the dirt floor, privacy screen separating her from a much large wall and the cracked wash basin set on the table next to her. This wasn't her room – and she hadn't hit her head on the underside of Bethany's bunk as she usually did when she sat bolt upright. In fact, where ever she was it was far filthier than Gamlen's home, something she hadn't thought possible.

"I swear to you, you blasted hound I haven't done anything to her..."

Hissing under her breath Marea covered her ears as the sharp shock of a dog's bark reached them and she cringed into the pillow behind her. Who was letting their bloody dog **bark **at this time of the...actually, she had no idea what time it was. It was still dark, which meant it must still be night surely. Maker, had she been lying here for days in this bed?

The sound of someone padding around the privacy screen, accompanied by the softest of growls had her scrambling to pull the pelts and blankets up and over her chest, though she relaxed a little when none other than Ander's poked his head round. He looked a little relieved to find her awake and she watched as the rest of his body followed his head, his trousers and loose shirt covered in dirt, closely followed by her Mabari; who, on seeing his mistress alive and well bounded up onto the bed – ignoring Anders' angry protests.

Hawke gave a particularly feminine shriek of pleasure and shock as he lathered attention to her face, neck and bare shoulder; anywhere he could nose at, his large paws pressing against her thighs. Raising her arms against the assault she giggled and pushed at the slobbering beast with soft begs for him to get off not daring to open her mouth more than she had to lest he lick her across the mouth. Kodi however was not to be denied the opportunity to make sure his pup-of-sorts was definitely well and nosed at the tender, still red, area of her shoulder, growling in the mage's direction when she hissed softly in pain.

"I'm a mage, mutt; not a miracle worker," Anders snapped back before pausing. He was talking to a dog...Maker what had he stooped to? "The bundle of fur woke me up a good half hour ago with his barking and scratching at the door. I didn't have much luck at restraining him either..."

Chuffing his displeasure the large war hound continued to nuzzle, lick and groom the blonde until she was covered in his scent, instead of the man's, and flopped down across her legs when he was finished, leaving Marea to rub the saliva away with her sleeve. "Silly puppy...How did you even get down here? Bethany knows better than to leave the door open."

The Mabari gave her a doggish grin, and even Anders was impressed at how well the emotion was expressed, and wagged his tail enthusiastically. He barked once loudly, and gave her cheek an apologetic lick when she cringed again at the strident noise.

"That is _not_a puppy, or a dog for that matter; he's a beast of some description," the mage grumbled under his breath and grimaced as she soiled his shirt. "You can keep that by the way, I don't think I'll want it back knowing that he's slobbered over it – Maker knows where his mouth's been."

Chuckling Hawke rolled the Mabari off of her and onto his back, rubbing his belly affectionately before swinging her legs out of the bed. "The way you are around him I would never have pegged you for a Ferelden," she teased, frowning as she brushed her fingers across the knotted braid; that was going to take forever to get out and blushed slightly as she noticed Anders' eyes trail across her pale skin. Kodi's jealous growl had him coughing before gesturing to her pile of clothes with a small, barely there smile.

"I'm afraid the shirt you were wearing was ruined, but everything else seems to be intact; I'm sure I can try and fish out a shirt that'll fit you this time." At his well meant jab the blonde female frowned and looked down at the shirt she assumed he'd changed her into (this thought was accompanied by another deep blush) and realised that he was right; he appeared to have rolled up the sleeves to hang at her wrists, the hem fell to her knees and the wide neckline plunged dangerously low, she clutched it closed with a scandalized look causing a real, albeit small, smile from the mage. She suppressed a shiver.

Maker was he really that big or was she just small?

"What time is it?"

Anders shrugged, "Hard to tell down here, probably only a little after sunrise, or else I would have people knocking on the door."

At the reminder of the real world outside of the safe boundaries of Anders' clinic Hawke's shoulders drooped. The real world held monsters, responsibility, impossible tasks and, Maker help her, her mother. Sighing she nodded and turned to the water basin, wringing out the cloth that had been inside she gently patted it against her inflamed shoulder, whimpering softly at the chill.

"Oh, here." Anders quickly moved to her side and placed the tips of his fingers on the surface, his brow creasing in concentration. Steam slowly started roll from the bowl and he silently pulled his hand away, jumping as she moved to put her hands straight inside the scalding liquid. "No! Wait you have to let it cool..."

Too late. Marea had already sunk her right hand in to the knuckles before leaping back with a yelp to cradle her burnt fingers, her lower lip stuck out and trembling as she breathed heavily through her nose. It took him a moment to realise she was trying not to cry.

Maker he would never understand the woman. She could take a dagger to the back and demand that she would be able to sew it up herself but she burnt her fingers and she was going to sob like a little girl. It was almost endearing. Sighing he pulled her hand towards him taking infinite care as his finger's glowed once more as his magic surged to ease the throbbing and to stop any blistering. Kodi whimpered up at him from his position on the bed, his large head lifting from his forepaws.

"Don't look at me, it's _her_fault," he said softly, though the way Marea stiffened at the accusation and made to pull her prone hand from his had him hurriedly scrambling to retract his scorn. He did the only thing he could think of; he teased her. "How can you dodge, parry and sneak the way you do and be so clumsy?"

"It's a gift."

Silence settled between them, thick and unyielding, her hand still clutched in his. He could only hope he hadn't caused her offence; it was disconcerting to think that behind the confident front she put on for all of Thedas to see that there was a woman with the low self-esteem her behaviour pointed to. She gently prised his fingers from around hers with her free hand and eased his fears with a smile before trying to break the awkwardness.

"Nice trick...despite me trying to maim myself."

Anders actually smiled; a sly grin that sent gooseflesh over her skin and a shiver of liquid heat down her back. It was every bit as dangerous as she'd imagined it to be, all flashing teeth and narrowed beaming eyes; right down to the dimple in his right cheek. "You should see what else I can do..."

The innuendo in his voice was thick and it took Marea a moment to realise wasn't a tease; it was a _**promise**_, one that sent her cheeks burning.

She then became aware of exactly how close he was and with a small, awkward cough she distanced herself from him and tentatively dipped a finger into the basin to test the temperature. Satisfied she wasn't going to scold herself again the blonde soaked the cloth and pushed her sleeves up to her elbows to gently clean away the grime and gore from the night before. From the way the hairs on the back of her neck prickled she could tell Anders was still watching her.

Looking over her shoulder hesitantly she gave up her attempt to clean herself, at least not with him staring at her, and instead started working the band at the base of her braid loose. "I should get dressed," she said quietly and teased the knots out of her hair, grimacing as she did.

"Yes, you should."

Still he made no move to leave and she raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You said you were going to find me a shirt..."

That had him moving, and the mage quietly dipped his head before moving to the screen, as she mumbled his name Anders turned to frown inquisitively in her direction. He was momentarily distracted by the curls matted at her back, and even as disarrayed as they were there was a sense of femininity to them and the way they dipped down to gently graze her buttocks; the image was made all the more tantalizing by the way she popped her hip and twisted the ball of her foot into the dirt...swamped in one of his shirts.

His chest tightened.

As did his trousers.

"Just fold it over the top of the screen, that way neither of us will have to be...embarrassed."

Chuckling he nodded and disappeared to fulfil his promise desperately trying to think of something other than her hair.

* * *

He didn't see Marea for two weeks.

But she certainly made her presence known despite that.

Two days after she'd left his clinic he'd opened the doors to find a basket in the dirt; inside were two shirts, his shirts, clean and smelling faintly of rosewater, the scent he'd come to associate the rogue with - his bedding had held a taunting reminder of her that had made it significantly hard to sleep. And there, pinned to the front of the one she had worn away from the clinic to return home was a small piece of parchment with flourished script across it. _'I told you I'd bring them back. I cleaned the one Kodi slobbered on twice for your piece of mind. Tore the sleeve of the smaller one and patched it up as best I could, sorry. Hawke.'_

Day five had bought another basket, though this one had been snuck into the clinic itself – strangely the idea of Hawke picking his locks while he slept didn't bother him as much as he felt it should. It had been full of food, basics that he had run low on, bread, cheese, a bottle of wine, and, to his wonder, _ham_. Whatever the blonde had been up to recently had had rewarding results if she could afford to feed him; it was sweet of her to bring him food...though he couldn't help but wonder how exactly the woman had known that he'd been running out of supplies.

At the end of the week there was a box full of herbs; Elfroot, Spindleweed, Embrium and Ambrosia. This one, unlike the other had come with another note; one that wished him well and apologised for not being down to see him since the night at the Chantry and asked if he could leave the baskets out for her to collect later. Beneath the blanket at the bottom of the crate was another bottle of wine – Justice wouldn't let him get drunk, but it was kind gesture and it didn't stop him from _enjoying _the taste.

Anders found himself looking forwards to opening the clinic in the mornings, eager to see if Marea had come during the night; if his expectation were met with food or, more often than not a short note about her day and sometimes silly limericks he would be, though he was ashamed to admit it, grinning and buoyant for the rest of the day. However, when he opened the doors ready to be charmed by yet another small, inexpensive, but very sweet gift and was greeted by nothing he was sour and grumpy, borderline **surly **towards his patients.

It was rather frustrating really.

On the fourteenth or fifteenth morning of this tug and pull Anders opened the clinic doors to find the object of his current obsession, braid looser than usual with hair in her eyes, standing outside bickering with Varric about the finer aspects of marksmanship, the red headed woman, Aveline, who had also helped standing just behind them, shaking her head with that blasted Mabari bounding around their feet.

"I've _seen_you with a bow, Hawke and you make a mess of every shot."

"That is completely beside the point, _dwarf_. You can't class yourself as a true marksman unless you hit your target nine out of ten times, not just fire bolts randomly and hope that it hits something. Poor Bianca must get so frustrated the way you handle her; she needs someone who's going to hold her properly and take the time to make her sing, they way she sounds at the moment is like you're startling her. You must make a piss poor lover."

Anders froze and looked at Marea in complete awe; had she meant to sound so lewd? He was pretty sure she had, which simply sent his mind spiralling out of control; she was **flirting** with the dwarf, and he had been sure she had no interest in him, apparently he'd been wrong. It sent a prickle of jealousy through his gut. She wasn't so carefree when speaking to him...Did he really repulse her _that much_?

"Shhh! You're confusing her! She's never had reason to doubt me before; you're just jealous that she'll never be in your inexperienced hands."

Snorting the woman smiled mischievously, "I think she'd like being in the hands of a woman; besides, I'm not as inexperienced as you would make me out, Varric."

"I hate to interrupt," Aveline cut in, the tone in her voice teasing and very clear that she didn't mind interrupting them at all, "but Anders is looking like he's about to electrocute something."

He did **not**.

The blonde rogue however simply turned her attention from Varric and smiled warmly at him, hoisting the pack he hadn't noticed she'd been holding a little higher on her shoulder. The one he'd healed. "All fixed up thanks to you," she interjected when she saw his gaze lingering and smiled a little wider. "Grab a pack and stuff some clothes and provisions inside it, we're off to kill some mercenaries."

_"Hawke."_

Marea turned to Aveline with a pout and crossed her arms with an overdramatic sigh before adding in a put on Orlesian accent, "If you please, ser mage, my dear friends and I would be absolutely thrilled if you would accompany us on our trip of mercenary hunting. You might want to pack some extra clothes and some potions because we won't be coming back for a few days." Then flashing a cheeky smile in the warrior's direction asked, "Happy?"

Anders watched with a small smile as Aveline shook her head again with a soft: _'Maker why do I bother'_but almost leapt out of his skin as Hawke turned excitedly to him again. "You're in a good mood..."

She grinned and shrugged, tossing her hair out of her face as she answered. "It's a nice day, the sun is shining, the birds are probably singing somewhere in Thedas and I don't have to go home for a week or so. I don't have to put up with Gamlen's cooking anymore, Maker bless him for trying but his soup looks like it's about to make its great escape at any moment – a few more meals like that I might have come down here to put myself up in your clinic...So are you coming or not?"

How could he say no? The mage had to admit that he liked this happier Hawke a lot; she was actually rather silly, though the sarcasm was still heavily in play. It was nice to see her smiling instead of frowning.

"I'll go pack. I'll have to write a sign to tell people that I'll be gone for the week."

The group nodded and he turned to disappear into the clinic chuckling quietly when he heard Varric and Hawke's banter following after him.

"Do they know how to read?"

Hawke smirked and waved her hand dismissively, "We could always draw them a picture?"

* * *

Groaning softly Hawke flopped down on the soft sand dune they'd decided to camp in the shelter of and leant back on her arms, closing her eyes to breathe in the salty air. It had taken them two days hard walking to get to the Wounded Coast, and another day and a half to find the Flint Company mercenaries; and now that at least one group was dead she'd decided it was time for a well-deserved rest. It had been the largest of the three bands she had found out about and they had done well; she'd managed to stay out of the firing line and Aveline had only gotten a few easily healed cuts and bruises.

"I think I'm going to go wash."

The declaration had the group stiffening as she pushed herself to her feet, Kodi immediately joining her, and Anders looked up from the fire to see her rummage in her pack for her night things. She didn't given them much opportunity to say anything but Aveline stood as well. "There are safety in numbers, Hawke, we might have missed a few."

"Varric?"

The dwarf shrugged and crossed his ankles, leaning against his pack, the epitome of peaceful confidence, "There weren't any tracks leading away from their camp, but if it makes you feel better we can bathe in pairs, Blondie and I will go once you get back."

Marea's bath was anything but relaxing. Her Mabari, though he hated bathing, didn't seem to see the ocean as a bath and had spent his entire time barking and chasing fish through the water before leaping on his mistress, soaking her to the skin when she was too tentative to submerge herself properly. Ten minutes of being assaulted and dunked the rogue had dragged herself to shore feeling every bit like a drowned rat; it was too dark for her to make out much more than Aveline's silhouette and so she had scrambled to her clothes, drying with her rough fabric she'd bought with her before dressing in the soft pants and shirt.

Bare foot the two women made their way back to camp, chatting and joking together as Kodi dipped into small caves and loped along beside them. As Hawke settled herself by her pack she smiled at the two men and confirmed herself as clean, shrieking as the war hound chose to shake himself dry beside her, flicking damp sand in her direction.

"Not for long if Kodi has anything to say about it," Anders chuckled and pushed himself to his feet, narrowly missing the clump of wet sand, courtesy of her wet hair, she launched at him. "We'll return soon fair maidens."

Snorting Hawke buried her hands in her pack for her bed roll and ignored the pair, setting herself up for a good, well deserved sleep. Sitting on the blankets cross legged she silently set about the grating task of getting all of the knots out of her hair, something that Aveline watched with quiet curiosity; she had never had the opportunity to see her friend with her hair down and the change was remarkable. She looked years younger.

"We should decide who's going to take first watch."

"No one," Marea answered simply, rolling her eyes at the frown the warrior sent her. "Kodi will keep guard, he doesn't need that much sleep anyway, he's just a lazy puppy, aren't you – " she reached over to rub his belly as he rolled over with an excited whimper, his tongue lolling, " – he won't let anything bad get too close. Relax Aveline, please, you'll ruin my evening."

Barely fifteen minutes after they had left Varric and Anders appeared over the verge to find the red head and blonde still sat chattering, the latter still battling with the many curls of her hair. Chuckling the dwarf set his own bed roll up and settled a little closer to the fire to warm his cold feet while Anders flopped down gracelessly next to his staff, watching Hawke carefully.

All was silent for a moment before Marea tossed the comb into the sand with a curse. "Andraste's tits why does it have to get so many blighted knots? Aveline, **please **will you help?"

"Oh no. I'm not touching your hair, I might do something wrong and I won't be around long enough to appoint someone to take my place as Guard-Captain. It's your mass of locks and you insist on having it that long, you can duel it by yourself."

Smiling at her grumbling the mage quietly shifted and scooped up the comb, padding behind her to sit, cradling her hips between his thighs. "If it'll stop your whining, _I'll _do it," he teased, his hands surprising gentle in her tresses and loosened the tangles patiently. He felt her relax a little under his touch, having stiffened when he sat behind her and she sighed.

"You'll have to entertain us tonight, Varric. Tell us one of your stories."

The dwarf laughed and crossed his hands over his stomach, cocking an eyebrow at the demand. "And what would you have a tale of, dear lady? A thrilling tale of debauchery, lies and intrigue or one of the more..._romantic _persuasion?"

Anders could all but feel the heat radiating from the woman in front of him and snickered silently as she answered, the playful venom in her voice oozing. "How about the one about the charming, extravagant crossbow with her mediocre wielder and her dear friend from Ferelden?"

"Oh!" Varric laughed and sent a suggestive smile in her direction. "Like the time the mediocre wielder watched the crossbow's friend nakedly squirm into a pair of breeches?"

Marea groaned. "You're never going to let me live that down are you?"

"Doubtful."

"What's all this about Hawke being naked?" Anders teased behind her, prompting a shudder as his breath pooled over her ear.

Varric took to studying his nails and chortled under his breath, "Trust you to only hear the part about her being naked, Blondie...Though I assure you, the little arse wiggle she was doing was divine."

"Please stop talking," Marea whispered, mortified as her face went a darker red by the second. "**Now**."

As it was Varric told them along, witty tale about a young, penniless woman who flattered and danced her way up to the courts of the Orlesian Empress with her cutting wit, stunning good looks and sweet disposition, entering a loveless marriage to a boring noble. She fell in love with a passing bard and the freedom he lived before escaping with him to start a thrilling adventure full of magic, Crows and politics.

The fire had long since burned down when the dwarf finally stopped speaking to survey what was left of his audience. Aveline had excused herself a little while after he'd started, the call of her bed roll too strong to resist, while Marea had made a valiant attempt to stay awake throughout the whole story but had eventually slumped back against Anders chest and subsequent warmth.

"Is she asleep?"

The mage nodded once and gently manoeuvred the blonde into her roll with a familiar sense of Déjà vu. It was the second time Hawke had fallen asleep on him, and he couldn't help but chuckle; he only hoped it wasn't a sign of things to come, she would be an awful snuggler, especially if her lover decided he wanted more only to find she'd passed out of him.

"This is the happiest I've seen her," Varric commented dryly and slid beneath his own blankets, watching as Kodi lifted his head to make sure the area was clear before resting his muzzle on his paws with a snort.

Anders digested this information before frowning, "You've known her about a month right?"

"Give or take," the dwarf answered with a shrug and leant back, pillowing his head on his arms. "She and her mother...don't see eye to eye. She doesn't like to admit it, but it gets to her; it's good for her to get away from Kirkwall for a while."

A wave of protective anger swept through him at the idea of anyone hurting the blonde slumbering a few feet away from him, even her own mother, and the mage grunted softly. "We should get some sleep; she'll want us up by first light no doubt."

"You know her well already, Blondie," Varric chuckled sleepily and all was silent, save for the heavy breathing of the war hound and the crackling of the embers.

Anders allowed himself to doze for a moment, wondering what it would be like to run his fingers through her hair when she was kissing him, her naked body pressed against his as she moaned into his mouth. His breathing hitched and he bit his lower lip hard to try and subdue the arousal that such a simple thought induced.

It was going to be a _long_ night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Six**

The remainder of their time spent wandering the wilderness around Kirkwall was mostly uneventful and the small party had traversed Sundermount with little incident. When they had neared the top and both the Flint Company and Dalish camps Aveline had pointed out the debt she still needed to pay; to which Hawke had smiling smiled sheepishly and said it was on her list of things she needed to do and that Bethany would want to be there. When Varric and Anders had actually asked what debt exactly she needed to fulfil the blonde had simply offered them both an odd quirk of her lips before she jogged off to collect Kodi from whatever ditch he'd gone to explore.

The camp was smaller than the one on the Wounded Coast; just as she'd expected. And with no warning to prepare them Hawke, Aveline, Varric and Anders (with the assistance of the former's Mabari) tore through the group with ease and barely any damage on their side. There were the odd cuts, yes and Anders had had to patch up a nasty cut for Varric and, embarrassingly, a few burns he'd given them when is aim faltered for a fireball.

However the fact that nothing fatal had befallen them simply put the mage on edge; life with Hawke was never dull – he'd found that out the hard way during their visit to the Chantry. Trouble seemed to swarm around the young rogue no matter where they went, not to mention her inane clumsiness when dealing with her day to day life meant that something untoward should have happened by now.

Yet they were mostly unharmed, save the few scrapes that littered Marea's arms and across her cheeks from her escapade through a rather thorny bush and down a verge when she'd fallen down a rabbit warren in chase of Kodi. The peace and the feeling that something was about to spring from behind them set his teeth on edge and plucked at his anxious nerves; something just had to go wrong.

And then it did; they walked straight into a Highwayman's ambush.

"I jest you not, Ser Tethras; the thing was almost three feet long and probably weighed the same as a small nug...Took me and Carver two hours to get the damn thing out," Hawke said brightly, widening her arms to the size as she strode next to Varric. The dwarf chuckled his eyes glinting at the enjoyment of a well told tale.

"Oh really? Maker, Elfroot, only you could spin a lie about your vegetable patch and make it interesting...So what happened?"

Marea shrugged, watching Aveline striding ahead of them and tossing a large stick for the happily loping Mabari – the open air had done both Kodi and Hawke the world of good. She hated the hustle and bustle of the city as much as the war hound. She'd been bought up in villages and open spaces, not dingy back alleys, and though she'd learnt from Meeran how to look after herself it didn't come second nature; not like hiking did.

"We dug it up and ate it; nothing glamorous about that bit. Well, not unless you class Carver grinding it into my face during dinner when I teased him about his voice breaking..." she giggled, forcing down the slight bitterness of the memory; those had been happier times, when she'd had an ally.

Glancing over her shoulder she grinned playfully at the mage traipsing some distance behind them all.

"How you doing back there, Anders?" she called cheekily and waved over at him. "Those old bones not quite what they used to be?"

Anders sent her a withering look and rolled his eyes unable to help but smile a little bit despite it; it was then he had to fight away Kodi's slobbery affection, the hound having bored of his game of toss with the red headed and decided he wanted to come and persecute the mage instead. "Slow and steady, Hawke," he teased back, though found himself distracted as he had to swat the dog away as his large head embedded in the crook of his lower back, pushing him in the direction of the group.

"I'm not a child, mutt. I'm perfectly capable of following."

Kodi simply chuffed and bounced around his feet taking a mouthful of his coat in his teeth and tugging hard. Grumbling under his breath the blonde made shooing gestures in the dog's direction, pulling away from him, only to be dragged forward with a playful growl. "Begone! Go hound Varric, I think he's hiding dried meat in his pockets."

At the prospect of food the Mabari launched a new attack in the dwarf's direction, leaving Hawke laughing loudly and carefree.

...It was easy to forget that she was that much younger than him.

Anders sobered slightly at that thought and looked down at his feet. He would be eight and twenty by the time winter came, while he knew for a fact that she'd only just passed one and twenty in the spring just passed. Although it was unheard of for people to marry with such an age gap it was usually only for politics or nobility; seeing as Hawke was embroiled in either it wasn't a likely event. He'd only ever been interested in a quick tumble in the past; it had been the only thing he had permitted himself to have.

And while he could see himself falling for someone like her, he didn't see Marea falling for someone like him.

He was a mage for one and had no chance at offering her a normal life, he lived in Darktown of all places and he was almost seven years her senior. Not to mention he was still hopelessly tainted by the Darkspawn, had only thirty or so years left and couldn't possibly hope to give her a family...

She deserved someone better than him.

Marea's grinning, flushed face broke him out of his thoughts as she waved her hand in front of his eyes, walking backwards ahead of him and clucked her tongue in mild, maybe even put on, irritation. "You alright there, Anders?"

Embarrassed by the direction his mind had been taking him the mage nodded curtly and sidestepped her, trying to ignore the confused, hurt look that passed over her face and strode towards the head of their party. All was silent for a moment, Varric had been watching them from the side (after placating the Mabari with scraps) and he could hear Hawke fall into step a little behind him.

It all happened at once.

In an instant Kodi was growling at the top of the verge they were climbing, his hackles raised and teeth bared at their unseen assailants. The blonde rogue was suddenly running past both Anders and Varric pulling her blades from her back as she went bellowing for Aveline to **not move**. Both men froze at the command, luckily because the dwarf, as he now noticed, was only inches away from a tripwire, expertly rigged to two large battered looking barrels.

The warning came too late for the warrior however, and with a sickening crunch the large bear trap she had triggered snapped shut around her calf, the wicked sharp teeth piercing the armour easily and cutting into the soft flesh beneath. Aveline's surprised cry of pain and Hawke's panicked shriek alerted the bandits the Mabari had scented to their presence and within second they'd been completely overrun.

Without their human battering ram the battle had been a long hard slog. The red head had tried her best to help when she could, valiantly gritting her teeth through the pain and extending her body as far as she could to cut down any foolish enough to get too close. Varric defended her when he could, making sure none tried to attack where she couldn't reach, the mage in turn took out anyone who looked like they would overrun either rogues in the party. Marea tore through the ranks like a woman possessed, bellowing and grunting at the exertion as she twisted, dipped and parried. As she felled a man twice her size, wielding a large broadsword, Anders couldn't help but find her fluidity equally beautiful and terrifying, and made a mental reminder never to piss her off.

Kodi's flank was heavily bleeding by the time Varric had pierced the final bandit with a carefully aimed crossbow, he and Aveline had come out of the ordeal better than Hawke, who was hobbling, an arrow painfully embedded in her the soft flesh behind her left knee and bleeding from a cut near her collarbone where she'd narrowly missed a swing off one of the bastard's swords. She broke into a limping run straight to Aveline's side, ignoring the woman's protests for the blonde to be healed first and wrapped her small hand around the shaft, grinding her teeth as she started to pull.

The arrow head, and a large chunk of Hawke's flesh was moved before Anders had even been able to shout 'no', and the group flinched at her short, breathless cry. She shrugged away his hands as he tried to attend to her, and dropped to her knees with a grunt, scrabbling to loosen the mechanism that held Aveline's leg in place.

Marea was beside herself.

"Oh _Maker_, Aveline! I'm so sorry...I should have seen it sooner. If I – If I hadn't been playing around this would never have happened; I shouldn't have let my guard down," she babbled frantically, slicing the tips of her fingers and palms through the soft leather of her gloves as she prised the teeth from the red head's calf.

"_Hawke_– "

The blonde didn't allow Aveline to finish and shook her head, continuing her quiet mumblings and apologies as she worked, all but oblivious to what was going on around them. Kodi came to flop down by his mistress, whimpering softly as he arched his head to lick at the gaping, torn flesh on his hindquarters before turning his large, solemn eyes on Anders.

Finally Hawke sat back on her haunches, the trap in pieces in front of her and the dirt around her knees thick with a mixture of both Aveline's and her own blood before turning pleadingly to the mage crouched just behind her. The mage whose fingers were twitching at the effort it took not to grab her and heal the hole in her leg. "Heal her – please. I – I'll go help Varric look for more blighted traps."

Before he or Aveline could protest the rogue had struggled to her feet and limped away, crouching periodically to brush the dirt away from the trap so she could set her nimble fingers to work on taking it apart. For a moment Anders and Aveline didn't speak or more, the latter staring after the younger woman like she would like nothing more than to dash after her and drag her back by the scruff of her neck to be healed. With a sigh the mage quietly did as he was asked, painfully setting the crushed bone and healed her as best he could, sagging with the effort before eying his work critically.

"There," he mumbled, fishing in his pack to find his waterskin, taking a quick draught of water before handing it to the red headed warrior. She gratefully offered the liquid before flexing her leg to test her mobility, "It'll take a couple of weeks for it to heal completely, but you'll be able to walk on it for now."

Anders paused, mouth agape as Aveline pushed herself laboriously to her feet and jogged towards the blonde, who was diligently removing the trigger from a tripwire. "I said walk, not run!" he shouted after her, watching as she all but pulled Hawke to her feet and started marching her over to him.

Marea offered him a small, sheepish smile as she finally stopped in front of him and he rubbed his temples with a shake of his head. "Maker, Hawke. I don't have enough stamina or Lyrium potions to keep up with you and your injuries."

"I'm sorry."

When Anders looked up the look of miserable sincerity on her face had him sighing and he forced a smile, just for her – he would never do it for anyone else. "Don't be."

* * *

The next month passed in a similar fashion.

They'd just passed the forty sovereigns mark; their 'little' tasks usually morphing into large quests that involved Templars, mages and even Qunari. Another three had joined their group as well, Isabella, a rather racy Rivaini who Marea had immediately warmed to and answered the older woman's teasing with playful banter of her own, Fenris, a broody, ex-Tevinter slave and Merrill, a sweet, socially awkward Dalish with a taste for blood magic.

She'd been rather...blunt when she'd found out atop Sundermount and had actually chided the petite elf. However by the time they'd reached the Alienage she'd had suitable enough time to calm down and had agreed to go and visit the woman when she had the time.

Which seemed to be in demand where she was concerned.

Her list of 'things to do' pinned to the wall in front of the desk was getting longer by the day; a task for the Magistrate, an odd letter asking her to meet someone at a cave near the Wounded Coast, getting round to seeing what was going on in the Bone Pit and looking into the abduction of the Viscount's son – a task that had been bumped up to the top as a matter of emergency.

Eventually Hawke and Bethany, with the help of their newest recruit Fenris and Anders cleared out their ancestral home and had retrieved their grandfather's Will from the vault. She'd hoped that it would be some form of a peace treaty between them; but when she'd gently tried to defend Gamlen from the wrath of the two women she'd been scorned even worse than him.

Once more she'd become a sponge for the hatred and displeasure of the direction their life had taken. It was becoming rather tiresome actually.

And when she'd come back home from the Bone Pit with a few burns and cuts everything had blown up in her face.

* * *

"Enough."

Hawke turned to look over her shoulder, frowning slightly when she saw their mother darkening the doorway of their bedroom, Bethany lifting her book a fraction to hide behind, before returning to the task of pulling her nightshirt over her head. The sound of Leandra's low heels clicking against the floorboards was the only warning she got before a hand wrapped around her bruised upper arm.

"Did you hear me, Marea? **No**. **More**."

Stiffening minutely the blonde shrugged the older woman's grip away and tucked the hem of the overly large shirt into the belt of her drakeskin breeches – because she obviously wasn't going to be getting any sleep any time soon. Her eyes were as cold and hard as flints as she locked them with her mother's, whose own gaze wasn't much better. "I heard you, mother," she answered quietly, sounding rather bored with the conversation already. "But of course that doesn't mean I know what in the void you're talking about."

Leandra glowered at her daughter and folded her arms, her stance defensive as Kodi hopped from the lower bunk to stand by his mistress' feet with a low growl. She was almost taken aback. The Mabari had never growled at her before, but in the end there was no contest on where his loyalty lay; he had imprinted on Marea, though she never had and doubted she ever would understand why.

"No more bruises. No more cuts. No more sneaking out in the middle of the night to do Andraste knows what. Maker, no more of _this_."

She pulled the neckline of Marea's nightshirt down her shoulder and jabbed her finger at a barely scabbed cut she found there, her eyes narrowing as her point was made. Again the younger woman pulled away from the contact and Leandra felt a small pull at her maternal side. It wasn't that she didn't love her eldest...she simply didn't understand her and she couldn't help the anger she caused to well up inside her. She was so much like her father, despite her attempts of taming her wilder tendencies when she was younger.

It had driven a stake between them, one that neither could seem to get past.

Marea snorted and padded away from the bed and by extension her mother, not liking the way Leandra had trapped her there. "How else am I meant to get the money together, _mother_? This expedition isn't going to pay itself and we are so close to fifty sovereigns. Shall I take to whoring myself? Huh? Would that make you happy? Is it a more **ladylike **way of begging coin off of people?"

"From what I understand you've been doing a good enough job of that without any input from me," the older woman hissed spitefully.

For a moment Hawke froze and turned to look at her mother, shock evident on her face. She felt like she'd been doused in cold water. Surely her mother hadn't just said that...she must have been hearing things...

"Don't think I don't know where you go at night," Leandra continued, her hands fisted in her skirts. "That dwarf you wander about with. That elf you bought here the other week to feed; _Maker forbid_ that Rivaini woman who you shamelessly flirt with. I **know **you visit them at night – "

"Don't you dare bring _them_into this."

"As for that **apostate**...Anders is it? I'd rather di – "

"**Shut**. **Up**," Hawke hissed through her teeth, cutting across her mother as she slammed her fist into the wall behind her, sending another large crack skittering up to join the web above them.

"Bethany is just as worried about you as I am," Leandra added as if to add insult to injury and Marea watched as Bethany tentatively lowered the book she'd been studying to look at them both. "We jus –"

"**You** did this? **You** tell her every little thing that I do even when you don't have the full story? You nasty, conniving, evil, _vindictive_ little bitch! You had no right, Bethany! **No right**!"

The loud crack of skin striking skin echoed through the room and for a long moment no one spoke. Hawke pressed a hand against her reddening cheek, feeling the warm liquid heat of her own blood where her mother's nails had pierced the skin and simply stared at Leandra. There wasn't surprise in her gaze, just resignation over whose side had been taken again.

"Don't you dare speak to your sister like that."

Marea looked long and hard at her mother for a moment, taking in the splotches of red on her cheeks from the heat of her fury and the way her chest heaved as she caught her breath. She wrapped her fingers in Kodi's ruff as he growled in Leandra's direction and held him back and away from the woman before turning her penetrating glare in Bethany's direction. The mage paled at the look and shrunk back into the mattress, quailing until the blonde smiled bitterly and shook her head, looking at the ground.

She could feel the tears prickling at the back of her eyes, but she wouldn't shed them here. Not in front of them.

"After everything I did...The Will, that painting..." she whispered heatedly and glowered up at the brunette on the top bunk, sneer still firmly in place as she reached for the enforced corset, pulling it on and tying it swiftly. Her breath hitched as she tugged the ties a little tighter than usual, but the pain was a welcome relief from the anger and sadness. She could tell from the way Bethany's gaze twisted in pain that the hurt, sorrow and betrayal that she felt was reflected in her eyes like a tangible creature and she pushed past Leandra to stand in the doorway.

"I'm done...I'm – I'm just _done_. Do what you want, just don't either of you ask anything of me, you won't get it."

From within the bedroom Leandra and Bethany could hear Hawke's heavy boots as they padded across the living area to the door, pausing only when Gamlen's voice interrupted the steady pace.

_"When...will you be coming back?...Just so I know how much food to buy."_

There was a long break and then: "I'm not sure if I am."

Both women flinched as the door slammed.

* * *

With clenched fists Marea stalked down at the stairs from Gamlen's house, grinding her teeth; call her a thief, call her a bitch, call her a liar, call her murdering piece of Wilds scum and she wouldn't disagree...But if there was one thing she wasn't it was a whore. Her dignity was one of the only things left that she hadn't soiled...to have her own **mother **insinuate that she had...

Hawke didn't make it far before the tears started to stream down her face; and not much further until she'd sat down on the steps to the docks to sob into her arms. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, burying her face into the woven fabric of her shirt. After a moment or so something cold and wet nosed past her hair to snuffle at her ear, closely followed by a warm, rough tongue and she threw her arms around Kodi, sobbing into his neck.

"I – I'm s-sorry boy," she hiccupped softly and bit her lower lip as she ran her fingers through his fur. The Mabari took her tirade of tears with remarkable poise, not once shifting to scratch or wiggle away from her when she pulled a little too tightly on the hair at his back; instead he gently licked the salty tears away and whined softly.

That was how Anders found her; one of the baskets she'd let him keep full of food as he skulked back to Darktown, his stores now replenished. He had almost passed her by, but the familiar timbre of the sobs hit a chord in him, and then she had whispered something into that blasted dog of hers neck and he knew for certain that it was his friend sitting on the steps crying.

For a moment he wasn't sure what to do. He'd never seen Hawke cry. She was always so strong, sweet, kind and bright – he supposed she had to be to keep up their bravado, and while he'd seen small moments of seriousness they had never lasted for overly long. The closest he'd seen her to crying was when Aveline had been caught in that bear trap.

"Hawke?"

She didn't immediately answer him; instead she just tightened her grip on Kodi and buried her face a little further into his ruff.

"_Marea_," he tried again, crouching down and gently touching her shoulder.

**That **caught her attention.

Sitting up suddenly she stared at Anders and bit her lip, quickly trying to scrub away the evidence of her tears from her face with the sleeve of her nightshirt. Her eyes were a little puffy, but she looked no worse for wear and the blonde offered him a watery smile, "A-Anders...What're you doing here?"

The veneer was cracking the longer he looked at her; the smile didn't meet her eyes and her lower lip was trembling. Sighing he settled beside her on the steps, shooing the hound out of the way as he attempted to lick him in welcome, "I was getting some food before the stalls shut up for the evening. What are you doing here?"

Hawke brushed her finger over the stone beneath them, chewing her lip into a bloody mess as she trailed smooth patterns. He could tell she was thinking about what to say, trying to create some kind of damage control so he didn't think her weak no doubt. "I was just...thinking."

"You usually cry when you think then?"

He hadn't meant for it to come out so curt but it seemed to do her some good and she shook her head with a sigh.

"I can't go home tonight."

"And you plan on sitting her until morning then?"

She sent him a sour look and he had to force himself not to recoil under her gaze. "No...I'm just thinking what my next move is."

"Ever the strategist," he teased drolly and she smiled slightly at the roll of his eyes. "What have you come up with so far?"

Marea didn't say a word for a moment and frowned at the ground, flinching as she finally pierced the skin of her lower lip. "I'm still thinking."

Sighing Anders pushed himself to his feet and took her hand, pulling her up with him. To his surprise she didn't resist and allowed him to wrap her arm around his and guide her down the steps. "Then you'll have to stay with me until you figure this out, won't you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

The answer was instant that time and Hawke watched the mage bob his head in acknowledgement; turning to whistle to Kodi.

"Fair enough then."

* * *

"I had a friend like you once, you know," Anders chuckled over his mug of wine, grinning at the blonde from across the table. "Got into all kinds of trouble; dragged me along too. I didn't think I'd be doing that again...Look, I got a little...weighty the last time we talked...properly...alone...Sorry for putting that on you. Justice I mean...Back when...How long ago was it?"

Marea gave him a wry smile and giggled, raising an eyebrow as she made a small show of counting on her fingers, "Oh...about two months ago. But don't worry about it Anders; you'd be surprised how many people just tell me their darkest secrets; I must look trustworthy."

"You look...something..."

The blonde paused and eyed him for a few seconds before raising her own mug to her lips, taking a long draught. She wasn't entirely sure whether or not he had meant it as an insult or as a compliment and Hawke bent to scratch behind Kodi's ears. The war hound whined his pleasure and yawned, curling up between their feet, much to Anders annoyance, he'd been making a fun game out of seeing how many times he could 'accidentally' nudge his foot against hers before she noticed he was doing it on purpose.

"True. Proud...Like even if you don't agree with me you'll be honest. I just – I just hope I didn't seem too selfish when I told you about Justice. I didn't know what would happen; I figured a willing host, a friend...it had to be better than playing the demon and haunting a corpse..."

The mage trailed off and looked into his mug with a frown. It was a long time coming this talk, but while he spent most of his time with her they were very rarely alone; and it wasn't really a conversation he wanted to have when they were fighting for their lives.

"You tried to help a friend, Anders. No one's going to judge you for that; we can't always predict what affect our actions will have on the world or on ourselves," Marea said softly, casting her mind back to Carver. Her mother could never blame her more than she blamed herself...but Maker she seemed to be trying. "All we can do is close our eyes, take a steeling breath and make them with an honest heart."

Anders offered her a small, sly smile and nodded sagely, "Wise, kind **and **beautiful...You must have made a few deals with a demon yourself."

Hawke looked up at him suddenly; eyes wide and the dark red of a blush stained her cheeks before she looked down. He couldn't help but think it was a little endearing, watching her shuffle in her seat and chew her lip (that he'd healed on the way down to the clinic) in embarrassment. However he was suddenly worry that he'd passed an unknown boundary that she'd placed between them and he frowned, "I'm sorry it was – It was wrong of me to assume...I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't...well, you did. But it was a nice uncomfortable...You just took me by surprise that's all."

She watched Anders relax slightly at the admission and nodded to himself, as if she'd just confirmed something. There was an emotion in his eyes she couldn't quite place, something she'd seen before but could never really name.

"I have to admit," he said softly, smiling as he took a steeling sip of the wine. "I thought I'd insulted you, a woman such as yourself is probably used to men like me being so...forward...You must be sick of it...So you don't mind me – "

Marea smiled deviously and shook her head, knocking back the last of her wine before speaking. "You're perfectly free you watch me while grinning lewdly. Maker knows you've not been doing a good job at hiding it so far..." She giggled at the look of horror and surprise and raised her eyebrows at him, "Nothing gets past Varric. Or Isabella for that matter...Which reminds me; about the electricity thing you were both talking about..."

Ander's groaned. He was going to regret this. "What about it?"

"Isn't it...a little uncomfortable?"

_Maker do you have to look so innocent when you say that?_

Chuckling he shrugged and grinned lewdly at her; in the exact way she'd accused him of. "You'll just have to wait and find out won't you?"

Her body warmed immediately at the suggestive tone in his voice and at the way his gaze dropped to her clavicle; and, swallowing thickly, Hawke smiled sluggishly. Reaching over she gently prised his fingers from his mug and lifted it to her own lips, "No point in letting it go to waste."

She almost spat the liquid out again in a fit of giggles at the scandalized and sour look on Anders' face before downing it and placing the mug next to her own. Smiling she got to her feet and walked around the table, giving his shoulder a squeeze, mumbling goodnight in his ear before sauntering behind the privacy screen, calling for Kodi to follow and leaving him to clean up and lock the clinic alone.

Little minx...

_Maker_ he wasn't going to get **any **sleep tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Seven**

The fifty sovereigns mark came and went, and the group still hadn't left for the Deep Roads. Hawke's overly cautious habits had held the expedition up by a whole two weeks; determined as she was to build more coin up to leave behind for her (undeserving) mother should anything untoward happen. Varric would have been pulling his beard out if he had one by now, though Marea liked to think that the overabundance of chest hair was thinning slightly – or perhaps she was simply imagining it.

Neither Hawke or Anders spoke much of what had been said the night he'd found her on the steps in Lowtown, or of the near acceptance of the interest each held in regards to the other; there had only been one time since where she had spent the night, and that had been because of an injury. Once again chivalry had left him cold and uncomfortable on the canvas bed; and though he wouldn't have minded sharing his bed with the blonde (because Maker knew he was perfectly capable of sleeping in the same bed as a woman without molesting her...he liked to think that at least) Marea had an adorable habit of blushing when he so much as saw her in her nightshirt or if she saw him wandering about the clinic on a morning shirtless. He had therefore decided that that particular brand of teasing out have to wait for a time where she could hold her own without turning red and mumbling to her feet.

The pair went for long stretches of time without seeing each other, as usual; she'd only come down when she needed him to come along on a task that she felt was particularly treacherous (he'd come to silent regret showing Bethany how to heal someone), or if she, or their companions, needed healing. It was frustrating that her time was so taken up with other people - citizens who she would never see again, nor cared if they saw her again. Both would have preferred spending a little more time together on a social basis to work on the threads of their friendship; even Anders had to admit trying to hold a rational conversation when one of them was injured wasn't working.

The other thing that irked him to no end, or rather the other _person_, was Fenris. Hawke always seemed to have him along, for one reason or the other, and his mere presence grated on him. Yes he had to admit that the man was handy to have around in a tight spot, due to the simple fact that he could tear through several of their enemies at once, but his comments and attitude made his blood boil; no more so than when on the few occasions where the blonde had convinced the elf to go to the Hanged Man to mingle with their friends Fenris would grumble something under his breath that would have Marea in stitches. A quiet smug look would always be thrown his way when her back was turned and he would resort to sulking in the corner parrying Isabella's lewd comments until it was his turn with the blonde.

He felt a child in the circle again, battling with the other apprentices for the attention of the matriarch who took care of them before they were old enough to be moved into the main halls.

Everyone seemed to love her; everyone wanted to be with her, man or woman it seemed to make no difference. Even Merrill seemed to be somewhat intrigued by the fierce blonde with her cheeky, sometimes sweet, smiles and feral eyes. The only one who seemed to be immune to her charms was Varric, and that was because the dwarf saw her as a sibling he had no doubt. And the most infuriating part of it was that she _didn't seem to notice_. Well...unless it was Isabella and then she would tease the woman right back – because let's face it the Rivaini had no more subtlety than a Templar hunting a mage.

On some days the blonde seemed to realise the shameless flirting and looks being thrown at her and would grin, sashay her hips and laugh aloud brazenly, linking her arm with Isabella as they strutted off together, leaving the men behind them to stare open mouthed, Anders included. But on others she would be sullen and ignorant, barely noticing the mage's or the others tentative advances. They had all come to realise that on these days it was best to be as gentle as possible and that teasing, unless from Varric or Isabella, was prohibited.

Anders had come to a few theories about her behaviour. She was either completely mad and he should hide all of his potent concoctions away, along with her daggers, or, more likely, it had something to do with her sister. At any other time he might have been worried about, what Justice called, his 'little obsession' but he'd expertly skirted around his own conscience, and resident spirit, by justifying his careful watching as looking after her wellbeing. Whenever Bethany was in the group, or joined them sometimes in the Hanged Man Hawke would clam up and rarely speak, content to become more familiar with the inside of her mug as she sulked in a corner.

Her conduct wasn't for a lack of affection, for Anders knew that Marea was fiercely protective of her younger sibling, but something seemed to be between them, like a living breathing creature crouched, waiting for the sisters to mention it. Varric had described it very well when the mage had bought it up when he'd gone for drinks with the dwarf; he'd called the tension between them the 'raging Bronto in the corner of the room'.

Anders knew that something must have happened between either her sister or her mother when he found Hawke waiting for him outside the clinic the morning before she was due to leave for the Deep Roads. She'd been pacing, he could see from the line of her footprints in the dirt, with Kodi sat whimpering dejectedly some few feet away. He'd barely opened his mouth to greet her when she turned on him suddenly, eyes ablaze.

"Are you coming with me to the Deep Roads?"

The question took the mage by surprise and Marea watched in furious silence as Anders thought over her words. After having a long argument with Bethany, who had demanded that she was going whether Hawke liked it or not, she wasn't much in the mood for a discussion. She just wanted to know whether Anders wanted to go or not so she could figure out who else she was taking. Aveline was off the list, being too busy, Isabella had already told her she didn't like the idea of going anywhere where there was likely to be Darkspawn and Hawke had decided she wasn't taking Merrill; the poor elf wouldn't do well underground for any extended period of time.

"I – You know I don't want to go back down there, Hawke. But you also know that I – "

"Anders," the blonde cut across him firmly and crossed her arms, brow furrowed. "Don't bullshit me. Just tell me if you want to come or not."

He had to force himself not to snap back at the woman, because he hated it when she took that tone with him, and instead looked down at his boots. For a long moment he didn't say anything, even when he heard Marea hiss irritably and watched her continue her pacing before finally answering, "No. I don't, you know how I feel about the Deep Roads. If you're giving me a choice, then I won't go with you, but you know if you want me to I'll come. You only need to call."

Hawke's eyes softened a little at the gentle, reassuring quality to his voice and she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as she stopped pacing. "Then I'll take Fenris. Bethany's coming so I guess I don't need another mage...I'm not about to force you to go down there if you feel that strongly about it. Sorry for being such a bitch...I'm just...stressed."

Anders snorted and shook his head, waving away her apology with a swipe of his hand. "I'm used to it by now."

"I'm sure you are," she chuckled wryly, glancing down to see Kodi nosing her hand before scratching behind his ears. "That's right, boy, all safe now. Anders knows how to calm me down."

There was a long awkward pause between the pair; unsaid words cloying the air as they shifted from foot to foot, her fingers still tunnelling the hair at the Mabari's back. She wanted to assure him she'd come back, even if she was hopelessly tainted, and he wanted to tell he how much he appreciated her company and how she always helped him whenever he asked – or even when he didn't. But the words caught in their throats. Hawke actually opened her mouth once...before she thought better of what she was going to say and closed it with a pop.

Finally it Anders who broke the stillness, "You'll be careful, won't you?"

Marea smiled sadly and nodded. There was another break and then she added, "I can't very well leave you all here can I? Can you imagine the pandemonium that would erupt if I left someone else in charge? ...I guess I'll...see you when I get back then."

She was deflecting. And both of them knew it.

She was halfway down the stairs when Ander's hand wrapped around her wrist. His eyes were surprisingly earnest when Hawke turned to look at him, her hand limp in his, "Do you – want to talk about whatever's got you this riled up."

The blonde frowned at the question and gently pulled her arm away with a shake of her head. "No."

"You can't keep pretending it's not happening, Marea," Anders growled, frustrated as she slunk down the remaining steps. He half hoped he'd hit some nerve when she stopped at the bottom, her fingers digging into the splintered wood of the banister, however all he was offered was a sad smile as she looked over her shoulder at him.

"Yes I can."

_I don't know how to do anything else..._

"I'll see you when I get back."

Anders watched solemnly as the rogue slipped into a shadow and out of sight, Kodi bounding after her, leaving him in the semi-darkness to contemplate what she'd just said. Sighing he passed a hand over his face and turned back to the clinic, only looking back to mumble softly under his breath, "_Stay safe, Marea_."

* * *

"We've chosen one of the hidden entrances. The Deep Roads there will be nice and virginal; ready for a good deflowering!"

Hawke shuddered slightly at the image such words bought to the fore of her mind and cringed...Of all the words Bartrand had at his disposal he chose deflowering? She was glad she didn't have Isabella with her or else the rest of the trip would be full of jokes about virgins and naughty dwarves; and then Varric would get involved and she'd be left wanting to tear her hair out and cover her ears.

However Varric by her side seemed to have a similar view on his brother's innuendo and grimaced in turn. "Huh, well there's an interesting image."

"It'll take a week for us to get to the depth we need," Bartrand continued, still pacing in front of the large group of their expedition. "There are bound to be left over Darkspawn from the Blight; big risks, big rewards."

"Risks? Rewards? What could be better?" Marea interjected sarcastically and rolled her eyes in Fenris' direction; the elf dipped his head to hide the barest hint of a smile and set about brushing the bottom of his foot, trying to dislodge and imaginary stone.

"Exactly!" The blonde couldn't help but chuckle along with Varric at the dwarf's enthusiasm, seemingly ignorant to the sarcasm that laced her words. "Now before we – Wait...Who invited the old woman?"

_Oh Maker...Please no..._

Hawke turned to look in the direction Bartrand was now staring, her stomach lurching when she saw her mother. If she had taken the time to eat that morning she was certain she would be about ready to bring up her breakfast; however since she hadn't eaten since the night before her gut simply contented itself to tying itself in knots. Leandra was looking straight at her, with the kind of quiet ferocity she reserved only for their worst of fights; surely she wouldn't make a scene in front of all these people?

The older woman bobbed her head, "I'm sorry to interrupt, Ser Dwarf, but I must speak with my daughters."

Caught between the uncomfortable limbo of her cheeks burning with embarrassment and her face draining of colour, she and Bethany quietly made their way to Leandra. The blonde was careful to keep out of arms reach, she could already tell that the conversation that was about to take place wasn't going to be pleasant, and she certainly didn't want to be undermined by her mother slapping her in public.

"Mother! I told you not to get involved in this," Bethany said gently, coming to stand a little ahead of her sister, reaching out to touch her mother's hand.

Leandra pulled her hand away, her eyes locked on Marea's before speaking, her voice thick with contempt, "I just want to know one thing; are you planning on taking Bethany with you?"

The blonde rogue looked between her sister and her mother for a long moment, biting her lower lip nervously. If she didn't take Bethany she was certain the girl would never speak to her again; but if she _did_ take Bethany then Leandra was sure to make a scene...After a moment she dipped her head in acknowledgement, "I can't very well leave her here. I need her; she made the decision two nights ago, I tried to convince her not to come, but she won't listen to me. And if she _wants_to be part of this I'm not about to turn her away; it's her life, let her chose what she wants to do with it."

Bethany nodded and looked over her shoulder at her older sister affectionately, and Marea decided that it really didn't matter whether or not Leandra made a scene; for once the two sisters understood each other and that moment of camaraderie was worth more than anything. For once since they were very young, the two women were what she had wished them to be when Bethany and Carver had been born; friends. "Mother, it's fine, I want to go. Listen to Marea, she hasn't let us down yet."

"It's not fine," the older woman hissed and shook her head, turning her now imploring gaze on her youngest. "You can't both go. What if something were to happen to you?"

Marea stiffened slightly. Yes, what if something were to happen to Bethany? Never mind her.

"**You **I understand wanting to do this," Leandra accused flippantly and the blonde sighed, rubbing her temples. "Leave your sister here, Marea."

"I'm taking her, mother. This isn't up for debate; you can scold me when we get home, but I don't have time to stand here arguing about a moot point," she hissed and waved her hand before stalking back to the main body of the group. Behind her she could hear the softer footfalls of her sister, and then the harsher clicks of their mother's heels as she made to follow them.

"Please, Bethany! I'm begging you, don't go, don't do this," she whispered frantically, her hands brushing over every part of her youngest she could; her shoulders, down her hair. Hawke felt her gut twist in jealousy as she turned away, shifting anxiously.

The brunette gently prised Leandra's hands from her upper arms and shook her head, trying to placate the woman with touches of her own, "I'll be fine, Mama, I promise." She felt guilty when the older woman bought her hands up to cup her face, forcing down the tears that were no doubt threatening to spring from her eyes, "This will work out for the best. You'll see."

They embraced, and Hawke couldn't watch. It wasn't until she heard Bethany padding towards her that she looked up, her eyes caught by her mother's as the woman stared at her with such...loathing. Of all the things that Leandra had said to her, of all the times she had slapped her none of it came close to the pain she felt from that one look. It screamed at her that she was a mistake...And perhaps she was.

"Personal drama over with?" Bartrand asked tactlessly and Marea could see Varric in the background shaking his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Then let's get underway."

"It's been a long time coming, eh, brother?" the archer chuckled and smiled roguishly in Bartrands direction.

"That it has...The Deep Roads await!"

As they set off after the surprisingly quick dwarf Bethany rested her hand on her sister's shoulder, squeezing softly through her shirt and smiled sadly. "It's the Templars or the Darkspawn...At least I'm allowed to fight Darkspawn," she said gently and sighed, "I wonder sometimes if she understands...Marea...I- I'm sorry. For everything that's happened recently. You – "

Hawke shook her head and offered the brunette a forced smile, patting her hand awkwardly. "Let's not ruin the moment, Bethany. The sun is shining, we're off to make our fortune and for once we're not at each other's throats. Shall we just savour it instead of filling it with apologies?"

"Alright, sister. You're probably right, anyway."

* * *

_Nug humping, swine spewing, puss filled, festering, Wilds toad!_

The impressive line of expletives had been near continuous as she, Varric, Bethany and Fenris picked their way through the rubble back towards the surface, each weighed down with as much treasure they could haul from the vaults they'd managed to escape from in the thaig. That bastard Bartrand had screwed them over. It wasn't something she was overly familiar with; she'd been sold out yes, but never by someone she trusted. She hadn't been close to Bartrand, not by any stretch of the imagination – she'd always thought of him as a vile, pig, but she'd never expected him to turn on his own brother.

Slowing to a stop Marea frowned, looking down at the dwarf next to her, "This part of the Deep Roads looks familiar...Then again...it **is**just more rock and rubble. I might be imagining things."

"We're back where we started," Varric confirmed with a nod and a small smile. "And only in five days, not bad, huh?"

The blonde was about to start down the stairs in front of her, spurred on by her still simmering temper, before Bethany's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Could we...Slow down a little. I'm not feeling well..."

"Hawke..."

Looking over her shoulder at Fenris the rogue's frowned deepened at the strained look on the elf's face, whatever was wrong with the brunette must be bad if he seemed that worried. Dipping her head she swung her heavy pack from her back and kicked it with a low grumble, "Let's make camp if you're sick."

"Heh, I'd wager it was those Deep Mushrooms we found," Varric chuckled as he turned to face the elf and Bethany.

The younger woman swayed for a moment, her pallor sickly white as Hawke drew nearer and her stomach sank at the familiar dark circles beneath her sister's eyes and the dark veins beneath the thinning skin stretched over Bethany's collarbone. "No..." she whispered softly, her breath hitching as her legs gave way and she dropped to her knees.

"**Bethany**!"

Within seconds Hawke was by the mage's side and she scooped her sister up into her arms, shaking as the realisation set in. The Blight...Maker, no, please no. Not Bethany, if anyone had to die let it be her...Her own breathing hitched as she cradled the younger brunette to her chest and she turned her glassy eyes up to look at her. The nausea that washed over her threatened to overwhelm her for a second, and then she pushed it aside.

"It's the Blight, isn't it...I'll end up just like Wesley, won't I?"

"_Maker_ you...you **stupid** – _Why _didn't you tell me sooner? I could have...I'm not going to let that happen," Marea hissed, gently brushing her fingers through the mage's hair, just like Papa used to when she got sick. Bethany smiled for a moment before she closed her eyes.

"I won't make it to the surface. It's coming on faster..."

Distantly Hawke heard Fenris and Varric come closer, the sharp twang of the former's boots setting her nerves on edge. "Sunshine...I'm so – so sorry. Hawke, we can't do anything, not down here..."

"N-No! I won't let you die...I failed him once I won't fail him again."

Bethany wrapped her fingers in the ties that held the front of her sister's shirt closed and pulled the blonde down to embrace her. Words wouldn't do them any good, so she just held the trembling woman close; and every little hurtful thing that had been said or done was forgiven, Carver's death was forgiven. "I never blamed you," she whispered finally, her voice thick with emotion as tears pricked her eyes.

And that was all Hawke needed to forgive herself.

Pulling away a fraction, Bethany locked her eyes with the blonde's, "You'll take care of it, won't you?"

"How can you ask me to kill my own sister?"

"Because she's asking you to. It's just you now...Take care of mother, she loves you more than she says...Just like I do..."

Marea bit her lower lip hard; the metallic tang of blood flooding her mouth as she hesitantly unsheathed the dagger from her hip, the younger woman wrapped her fingers around her older sister's trembling ones and held the blade to her breast. The moment was too intimate to say what they wanted to in front of Varric and Fenris, so they instead looked at each other, long and hard before with a grimace Hawke plunged the blade into the brunette's heart.

For nearly three minutes she remained in silence, clutching her little sister's body to her chest, burying her face in her hair to hide the quiet tears from her companions. Neither Varric nor Fenris imposed on her solitude...But as the blonde gently lowered Bethany's cooling body to the ground the elf finally spoke.

"I am...sorry, Hawke. She wouldn't let me tell you."

Stiffening Marea turned her tearstained face towards the man and scowled, her hands clenched to fists as she got to her feet. And for once she let irrationality take over.

"It was you...You **bastard**! You should have said _something_," she hissed launching herself at the elf, who, despite his strength and slightly taller frame bore her tirade silently. He let her slam her fists against his breastplate and curse his name and struggle against him when he evaded an underhanded blow; because it was easier to blame another for a fault you thought to be your own. And when her knees went weak and her hands became still and she threatened to collapse beneath her own weight he awkwardly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and patted her head as she sobbed against him.

She was unsure exactly how long she stood slumped against Fenris, her shoulders shuddering with the force of her sorrow, but all she did know was that when she finally silenced into hiccupping sobs, Varric had closed her sister's eyes and was sat quietly, removed from them. She nodded her thanks to the elf in front of her, a silent understanding passing between them, a promise never to speak of her break down again and she turned to stare at Bethany's...body.

"I need to bury her."

Those were the last words the two men heard from her until they reached home.

* * *

She didn't want to go in.

It was a simple action – opening a door. You just reached out, gripped the handle, turned and pushed; there was nothing complex about this particular door either, just a little lock on the inside that jarred if you applied too much pressure. Marea had been standing outside of Gamlen's house for five minutes at best, ten at worse and still couldn't bring herself to venture inside. Her bed was there, yes, as was the comforting presence of Kodi with his warm tongue and wet nose...but there was also her mother, and what the woman would say when Bethany didn't follow her in terrified her more than she wanted to admit.

Still...she should open the door at least.

As it was, she didn't have to.

Her uncle's surprised face was the first thing to greet her, and she couldn't help but be slightly relieved to see him, and if she was reading his eyes right he was relieved to see her as well. Maker, what was the world coming to? She quietly stepped inside as he moved out of her way and she was welcomed with a slobbery lick to her face as Kodi jumped up onto his hind legs, his forepaws resting on her shoulders and his stubby tail wagging furiously. Next was Leandra, jogging from her room barefoot, eyes searching Marea desperately, as if trying to remember what she looked like...she looked...relieved as well.

"Oh my baby! You made it home!"

For a moment Hawke remained still, staring at her mother as if she'd grown a second head; Bethany had died in the Deep Roads, unless a demon wearing her skin was behind her there was no one standing here but her...surely her mother couldn't be talking to her?

"Bethany isn't with you?"

She shifted awkwardly and stared down at her feet, frowning as the tears threatened to flood once more. "No."

"Is she...coming back?"

"I'm sorry, mother...She died of the taint, I tried to – "

Ah. This was what she was expecting. The familiar crack of Leandra's palm making contact with Hawke's cheek resonated through the room, but it was closely followed by another, and then another and the blonde made no move, like Fenris had with her, to try and stop the hail of blows.

"Don't. You. Dare. Say you tried to save her!" Leandra shrieked, her nails raking at her daughter's arms, and Marea barked a command at Kodi to stay where he was as he jumped to his feet growling menacingly. "It should be you! It should be you rotting down there! Not my little girl!"

"Lenadra! Enough!" Gamlen roared, shocking both women as he pulled her from Hawke, dragging her to the fireplace and commanding her breathlessly to calm down. It was only when the older woman stopped struggling that he tentatively released her.

"Get out."

Marea froze from where she'd been dabbing her bleeding lip on her sleeve, frowning in confusion at the demand. But she'd only just got back...Where would she... "Mama?"

Oh _Maker _she hadn't called her that since she was a girl...and now the old pain of realising that your mother loved your youngest siblings more was reopened and all she could do was stand there as vulnerable as she'd been then, staring wild eyed as Leandra turned on her with another snarl.

"Get out!"

Without a word Hawke fled the house, Kodi at her heels.

* * *

It was nightfall when she finally made it to Darktown. Anders would be closing up for the evening and as she ascended the stairs outside the clinic she was dismayed to see he'd already extinguished the lantern and shut the doors. Licking her sore lip she quietly closed the distance and without thinking she raised her hand to knock. Hawke hadn't expected an answer, so when Anders answered moments later in a pair of breeches and a nightshirt she was sure she'd worn in the past she was unsure of what to say.

"Hawke...Thank the Maker you're alright I – _Marea_?"

Lip trembling, the blonde wrapped her fingers in the scruff of Kodi's neck reassuringly and swiped her arm across her cheeks to remove the painful reminder that she'd been crying on the way here. "I-I'm sorry, Anders. I d-didn't know where else to go..."

Shaking his head the mage gently wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her inside, shutting the door with his boot. Depositing her at the table he quietly went to his stores, returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses, sitting and pouring them both a healthy measure before he spoke. "You know you're always welcome here...What – What happened?"

"Bethany's dead."

Anders stilled suddenly and lowered his glass back to the table with a soft clunk. "Maker, I'm so sorry...Marea does your – "

"Mother knows," she answered bitterly with a barking laugh that sent him cringing and she lifted the glass to drain it. "She...didn't take it well."

"What about you?"

The blonde remained silent, swirling the dark red liquid in her glass around a few times, mulling over her words, "I'm not sure..."

The mage rubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. He didn't know how to deal with this...she was hurting and he wanted to help but it wasn't a pain he was sure he could help heal... Pushing his glass away from him and leant over the table, brushing his fingers across hers, wrapped around her own glass, "Do you...want to talk about it?"

When she didn't immediately answer Anders nodded and got to his feet so he could get the bed ready for her to use. He only got halfway before her quiet voice stopped him in his tracks.

"The first word Bethany could say was _Marea_...Or some silly variation of it...Mother was so – disappointed I think. She spent days fawning over her until she could say Mama too...I remember being so proud...I made a promise, Anders; I promised Papa that I wouldn't let anything bad happen to them. They were his last words: _Look after this family_...and I...I failed him."

Anders remained silently and padded over to sit back down at the table, listening intently as she finally got everything off her chest. It was about time too.

"She and Carver were so tiny when they were born...I thought we'd be best friends, but children are fickle and jealousy is a powerful emotion. At first I didn't mind so much when mother spent all her time looking after them, I still had Papa, but when Bethany first started showing signs of magic eventually he had to spend more time with her, help her to control it so we could stay hidden. She was the apple of my parent's eye...the mage Papa had always wanted; the beautiful little girl mother always longed for and I was...I was left in the cold.

"I resented her more than I care to remember...I think at times I even loathed her but I never stopped loving her, from the moment I first saw her I loved her to the moment I drove that Blighted dagger into her heart...I resented everything she was but I never wanted her dead; not for one moment."

There was a long pause where neither moved before Anders nodded to himself and got up.

"Where're you going?"

With a deep breath the mage turned on his heel to raid his stores again, "We're going to need more wine."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Eight**

There was nothing, Anders decided, more beautiful than watching Hawke covered in blood, her hair pulled up and knotted at the nape of her neck in a pair of tight grimy breeches and a stained shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, helping in his clinic. He'd been dubious at first – she wasn't a mage, but she'd proven herself to be adept at looking after injuries the old fashioned way, with swabs, poultices and needle and twine when it was needed. They both knew that she only did it to take her mind off of the renovation of the Amell estate and to keep away from her mother but he was grateful for the help none the less.

Many of the people who came to the clinic had minor ailments that Marea could take care of with a gentle smile and a couple of his potions, it took the strain off of him when refugees who **were** in dire need of his healing bombarded him. It was also helping to save on the lyrium. Children were usually reserved for her and her tender touch as she cooed at them, all maternal smiles and soft words of assurance as she swabbed scrapped knees or helped him set broken arms and legs. On more than one occasion Anders had had to shake his head to clear the images of Hawke as a mother; considering her own mother's behaviour he was a little surprised that she took to infants and children so well. Perhaps it was _because_ of her mother that she was so determined to be kind and loving...Or maybe it was just _Hawke_.

He didn't allow himself to dwell on _those_thoughts for overly long lest he feel the pinpricks in the back of his mind where he could taste the disapproval from his temperamental guest.

As the first frost descended on Kirkwall Marea helped deliver a baby for the first time.

It had been a long day for both of them, one of the few where she'd been able to stay from daybreak to nightfall without someone coming to fetch her, and they'd been clearing up for the day, she bathing and cleaning bandages so they could be used the next day and he cleaning some of the more...unsavoury parts of the clinic. The woman had been all but dragged through the doors; gritting her teeth as her husband half carried her towards Anders.

At first the blonde rogue had wanted to leave, and he was happy to oblige her; he wasn't going to force the woman to stay if she didn't think she could cope with it; she'd mentioned vaguely the horror she'd felt as a child when her mother had been going through labour and he certainly didn't want to bring back any nasty phantoms when she only just seemed to be getting past her grief. However the soon-to-be mother had reached out to grab her wrist, quivering as another contraction shuddered through her body and Anders had taken a few steps forward to gently release Hawke when she shook her head, anxiously chewing her lower lip.

"It's alright," she assured him and pulled the woman's clutching hand up around her shoulders, helping her husband leverage her onto the table. The blonde could hear her father's voice, the details he'd given her when she'd asked him what happened when women gave birth at the impressionable age of twelve; he'd sighed, before detailing the entire cycle of pregnancy. He'd said it was because one day she and Bethany would have children (she couldn't help but grimace bitterly) and that she would need to know what to do when the time came.

Still, she would take the mage's lead; he'd done this more times than he could probably count and the memory of blood stained sheets and her mother's shift burst to the forefront of her mind. She shooed it away with an internal scowl, berating herself for being weak and brushed the woman's hair from her forehead, smiling warmly. Prising the brunette's hand from about her wrist she tenderly pressing both against the large bulge as Anders snapped into action, gathering blankets, water, rags and a well chewed, small wooden oblong. "I'm Marea."

_Maker_...The poor woman was younger than she was, at least seventeen, if not slightly older, but no more than twenty.

"I-Irowen."

Nodding Hawke smiled again, glancing to her left she saw the her husband worrying his lip and twisting his fingers, and the blonde rubbed small, soothing circles across Irowen's swollen belly. "Everything's going to be alright. This is your first?" she paused and bobbed her head when the brunette nodded, "Try not to worry, deep breaths...Do you want your husband to stay?"

The man stiffened at the question and turned furious eyes on her, opening his mouth as if to argue but Marea sent him a quelling look. "This isn't your decision, if she wants you here then you can stay if not, you **will **respect her wishes."

After a long moment Irowen shook her head, grimacing as the contractions came more frequently and her husband sighed gruffly before stalking from the clinic to continue his prowling outside. Hawke shifted to assist Anders, who was juggling the bowl of water and blankets, but froze when the brunette gripped her hand urgently, earnest eyes burrowing into hers, "Ya won' leave me, will ya?"

Softening at the vulnerable question Marea shook her head and smoothed her free hand over Irowen's sweaty forehead, "I'll be right here, sweetheart. I just need to help Anders and I'll be right back."

After a moment or so the younger woman slowly released Hawke's wrist and the blonde dashed over to the mage, taking the blankets and rags from him with a nervous smile, depositing them on the table. After a moment she disappeared to the back of the clinic, behind the privacy screen and returning with the pillows from _his_bed, much to Anders' disapproval. Wordlessly the pair set to work and she gently propped Irowen up on the cushions as Ander's gently hitched her skirts up.

The brunette clenched her thighs together, shuddering beneath the new contraction and bit her lip, shaking her head before turning to look at Marea."C-Could ya? I – "

Nodding once Hawke smiled nervously and awkwardly shifted around the table to take the mage's place, her face turned to him imploringly and he couldn't help but smile slightly. "I'll walk you through it. You know a little right?"

Anders watched the rogue acknowledge him and he moved to gently take the woman's hand, mumbling quiet instructions to Marea; who, after a little hesitation rolled her sleeves up to her elbows from where they'd slipped and reached between Irowen's thighs. It was a position she never thought she'd be in, even with Isabella as a companion, she never expected to be between a woman's legs.

It was nearly three hours later when the baby's head breached the tight circle of muscle at the appendix of Irowen's sex, all three of them exhausted and longing for a good meal and a warm bed, and a further draining fifteen minutes until the clinic was finally filled with the wailing cries of a newborn infant. Marea wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to sob or laugh for joy as she gently pulled the bawling child from her mother, taking the blanket Anders handed her and wrapping her in its warmth. Removing her dagger from her belt the blonde carefully cut the cord linking the now snuffling baby to Irowen and gently cleaned away the worse of the blood, affectionately brushing the pad of her index finger over the smooth skin of the child's nose; oblivious to the small smile the mage was giving her.

"Hello you silly looking thing," she teased, taking in the shock of dark brown hair, just like her mother's...Just like Bethany and Carver's had been. Wearing a melancholy smile she moved round the table to place the child in Irowen's arms, watching silently as Anders moved away to collect the poor man from outside, "She's beautiful, Irowen."

There was a long moment where the brunette simply stared at her child in silent awe, her stocky husband jogging to her side before she smiled. "She is...isn' she...She needs a beau'iful name too," Irowen paused before lifting her eyes to Hawke, exultant through her exhaustion. "Wha' would **you**call her?"

"Me?" Marea stood taken aback at the question, looking wild eyed in the mage's direction only to receive a small smirk – as if he'd dealt with this before...Probably had too..._Bastard_. She tugged the edge of the blanket down and surveyed the cooing creature's soft features, unable to bite back the bittersweet smile.

"Bethany," she said finally. "I think Bethany."

Irowen and her husband looked at each other for a moment before smiling and nodded in her direction. "Bethany...Yes, it sui's her, I think... We - We won' stay much longer...I wanna sleep in ma own bed and – "

"Get her away from the dirt," Anders cut across her with a small nod, pressing a small vial into Irowen's husband's hands gesturing vaguely in the woman's direction, "We understand. You will be alright getting home? The potion should perk her up a little, help her regain her strength. If there's anything you need the doors will always be open."

The stocky man acknowledged the mage's question and generosity with a flick of his wrist and gently eased his wife from the table, careful to support her as she took the bottle from him. Her expression turned sour at the taste but she was otherwise in high spirits as she leant over to kiss Marea's cheek, her thanks flowing as freely as her tears before she was swept from the clinic. It was only then that Hawke and Anders slumped against the table.

And then she started laughing. It was only soft at first; a few errant giggles but before Anders knew it the blonde next to him was laughing long and hard, clutching the edge of the table for purchase.

"Have you finally lost your wits?"

Grinning she turned her jubilant eyes on him and he found himself returning the smile before he could stop himself; she shook her head, swallowing thickly before looking down at her blood slick hands. For once she didn't cringe from the gore, but stared down with a sort of reverent awe, this wasn't the blood of a dead man or woman; it was the blood of life, something _she_had been a part of. It was...glorious...knowing that she'd helped bring someone into the world instead of forcing them to leave it prematurely.

Rubbing them clean on her breeches the blonde shook her head, "No, it's just...I bought a baby into the world, Anders...Its – oh _Maker_ I can't even begin to explain how it makes me feel...Now I know why you do this, there's a...a beauty in healing and giving life – I think I always knew that but it's like...looking into the face of the Maker himself. Is that – Is it blasphemous to think that?"

Anders chuckled and shook his head, smirking at her. He couldn't help his wandering thoughts now, as she sat there beaming, radiant and...beautiful; watching her soothing that woman, helping her and finally holding that child had been – well, quite the sight, and one he was sure he wouldn't be able to shuck for a very long time. "I understand completely, and if it's blasphemous then let us be damned together..."

He paused before adding, "Though you owe me new pillows, I won't be able to sleep without thinking of a grunting woman in labour."

The resulting sly grin took him by surprise for a moment as Hawke got to her feet, dipping her fingers in the bowl to clean off the worse of the blood. "I shouldn't think you sleep without thinking of grunting women in general, Anders."

Both of them seemed a little surprised by her forward, shameless flirt because she dipped her head slightly, the faintest blush trailing up her neck to tinge her ears and he could only sit for a moment and stare at her. How in the Maker's name could she go from a brazen tease in one moment, and then a blushing Chantry Sister in the next? It was infuriating...and exciting. When he finally regained his senses he chuckled darkly and pushed himself up and away from the table to stand behind her, wrapping his arms about her shoulder so he could clean his own hands. "Only you."

He could feel the heat burning from her neck and face as he dipped his head a little lower, brushing his nose against the small, pale expanse of skin her collar allowed him access to, closing his eyes as he inhaled. She smelt of rosewater, something he knew she bathed her hair in; it was simple, fresh and above all else clean, something Hawke valued over everything else. There were undertones, of course, the smell of leather her harness impressed into her skin, the tangy, heady scent of the Antivan spices she sometimes used to cook with.

Neither of them had broken the impasse they'd fallen into since they'd awkwardly professed their interest in each other; Anders because of his respect for her boundaries and Marea...well seemingly because she enjoyed the new learning curve the gentle, friendly teasing had bought. It drove him _insane_while she just went about her life as though she was greatly unchanged by the whole experience. On most nights he'd bury his face into his pillow to inhale that tantalizing scent, biting the fabric so his moans and grunts didn't travel the expanse of Darktown as he stroked and pumped his way to completion. Never the less the ache was still there, simmering away.

Seconds ticked by and the tension didn't leave her shoulders, though when he shifted back a fraction Hawke slowly turned to face him, her expression unreadable. He half expected her to launch into a long sorry speech about how she wasn't ready for such commitment, and he would have been lying if he didn't find the idea repulsive and demeaning; however, the blonde simply smiled at him and pressed a gentle kiss to his chin before ducking out of his embrace to disappear behind the privacy screen.

"I'll see you in the morning, Anders."

Sighing the mage passed his hand over his face and slouched against the table, wondering how he got himself into these situations before moving to lock the doors and extinguish the lanterns.

* * *

Weeks turned into months in much the same way. And before Anders could blink his twenty eighth winter was upon him; he'd managed to dodge the blonde's attentions and his name day came and went without being mentioned, he utterly refused to mention his age around Hawke...But none the less the jibes she made about his 'old bones' didn't subside. It was infuriating.

Five days before Midwinter Anders opened the clinic doors to the most bewildering of sights. A basket full of long, gnarled holly and, though considerably less, mistletoe placed a few feet away, Merrill sat next to it humming to herself and chatting easily to Hawke as she weaved the plants together. Marea, to his horror, was balanced on Kodi's back, bare foot, the hound barely seeming bothered by her weight as she hung the already made twine of holly and mistletoe over the door.

Startled by the dim light streaming from the clinic the woman yelped and wheeled her arms desperately as she tried to regain her balance; on instinct the mage reached out to steady her, his hand hooked in her belt. After a moment she stabled herself and offered him a cheery smile as she finished her task and hopped off of the Mabari's back, patting his head.

"Do I even want to know what you're doing?" he asked grumpily, rubbing his temples with one hand. Justice had been nothing less than a dull throb over the last four days, since he'd done the cowardly thing and ran from a group of Templars. Four days of having your own mind turned against you with no sleep...

Pouting, Marea put her hands on her hips, disgruntled by his lack of spirit and poked him in the chest, "Look here you, just because you don't care that it's Midwinter soon it doesn't mean everyone else doesn't. It's not fair to deny your patients a little festive cheer."

Anders desperately tried to hold her gaze with an unwavering glower of his own, but eventually he sighed and nodded. Maker why couldn't he say no to her when she pouted at him...it should be banned. Hawke should never be able to use her pout to get her own way; at least not on him...Everyone else was fair game, he was intrigued to see what Sebastian would do if she ever decided to turn her slowly honing charm on the unsuspecting man. He smiled at the thought, placated for now, before glancing over at Merrill.

"Elgar'nan! Ow!"

Moving away from Anders, Hawke padded over to the elf, her feet dirtying as she walked, before crouching to take the woman's hand. Hissing under her breath the blonde shook her head with a small smile, "Maker, Merrill, you're more of a disaster than I am."

"Impossible."

Anders chuckled quietly as Marea turned to poke her tongue out at him and reached into one of her pouches so she could bind the elf's bleeding fingers. After five minutes or so both blonde and brunette sat back to admire her handy work and Merrill gave her a blinding smile. "Thank you, Hawke. I'm finished by the way; you can set it up on the other door."

Nodding Hawke hopped up, pulling the spiky wreath up with her as she did before bouncing back to Anders, who had taken to leaning against the doorframe to watch them. She smiled slyly at him before jerking her head, "Mind giving me a boost?"

For a moment or so the mage didn't move the mischievous glint in her eyes more than enough to give him pause, but he finally nodded. Cupping his hands he let her test his grip before she placed her foot fully into the cradle and he hoisted her bodily up so she could hang the wreath over his door...and gave her ample view of her much appreciated backside. Swallowing thickly Anders glanced up at the blonde his eyebrows shooting up when he noticed the suggestive way she was looking at him; suppressing the urge to swat her flank in punishment he helped her down.

_Blast you, you infernal little minx!_

"Thank you," she said sincerely and her eyes flickered up to the garland above their heads, grinning deviously.

Curious he tilted his head back to see what she was so enamoured by but found his attention diverted suddenly when her soft lips pressed against his. It was a chaste kiss, and fleeting by any standards – but it had him grinning like a fool anyhow.

"Mistletoe," Hawke mumbled by way of explanation and Anders had to bite back his retort that he didn't care _why_ she had done it, only that she did it **again**.

However she didn't and simply gestured for him to follow her down the steps, "Come on. Me and Merrill need help getting the tree up the stairs, I just hope no one's run off with it."

Anders frowned as he walked after Hawke, mumbling under his breath. "What do you mean _tree_. You're _not_putting a tree in the clinic..."

"Are people prone to stealing trees then? Seems a rather odd thing to do...There are plenty of other trees outside Kirkwall."

Sighing the blonde shook her head and grinned sheepishly in Anders direction before turning back to the elf, "Because they'll want to burn it, Merrill, it gets cold down here during winter."

"_Burn it_? But it's a Winter Solstice tree...It's not for burning, it's all _sappy _it would make an awful lot of smoke..."

Rolling her eyes Marea hopped down the last few steps, giggling as Kodi licked her hand roughly and she ran her fingers through his thick fur, rubbing his ears affectionately. Anders never thought to be jealous of a dog before...but here he was, envious of a Mabari...

_Maker what are you doing to me, Hawke?_

* * *

Life carried on in a similar fashion, Anders continued to try and resist the near overwhelming tidal wave that was _Hawke_and she continued to make it harder and harder for him to deny her with each passing day. Marea celebrated her twenty fourth name day, and, to his horror, Anders was left looking forward to his thirty first winter in a few months time; it terrified him...even if he hid it remarkably well from the blonde haired rogue and their tight knit circle of friends.

Summer Solstice came, and then another winter, an extravagant affair in the Amell estate and another year was through. Another passed with surprising ease and at the dawn of their next her simple existence of teasing and enjoying her time with her friends and companions was shattered.

For the second time in her life Hawke felt the bitter pressure of responsibility. Only this time it wasn't the responsibility of looking after her family and defending her sister, it was the responsibility of keeping a city from tearing itself apart. Terrified citizens fighting against the pull of the 'heretical giants'.

She didn't complain – it wasn't in her nature, but those closest to her, the few she allowed to see her weakness for what it was, knew it was only a matter of time before it got to her...It was only a matter of time before she couldn't shoulder the duty anymore and collapsed – or made a mistake.

And in a dingy section of Kirkwall's Lowtown filled with vomit, piss and deleterious poison, she finally did.

* * *

Andraste's flaming arse she couldn't quite believe she was about to do this.

The noxious gas polluting the air in the square sent her heart racing in her chest as she, Anders, Fenris and Aveline silently stalked down the steps, the guard's warning ringing in their ears as they went. He'd been adept in his description of the stench, it _did_stink of rust and throw up and Hawke looked around the empty square cautiously before descending into the mist. The nausea hit her first.

Wave after wave of sickness washed over her senses and for a long moment she leant over her knees, dry retching and coughing. The others were a little better off, Aveline and Fenris merely swaying on their feet and Anders, although pale, rested a glowing hand at her back, easing the queasiness. Then came fear; as much as she trusted her companions if what the Arishok said was true she was unsure if they would turn on her or each other...or perhaps she was the one going mad...

Deciding not to dwell on it, Marea brushed Anders' hand from her back before striding hip deep into the toxic fumes, forcing back the urge to cough and splutter. Without a word she pressed her arms against her mouth and jogged further into the square, bellowing over her shoulder, "We need to shut the barrels! Try and find something to close them!"

The small group spread out slightly, trying to breathe as little of the gas as possible as they worked. It was Fenris who found the latch first and Hawke sprinted over to him at his shout of her name; together the pair managed to wrangle one of the barrels shut, stopping the fumes from flowing from within. Anders watched in silent wrath as the blonde smiled gratefully at the elf and patted his shoulder and as Fenris dipped his head in acceptance, those carefully guarded eyes following her as she ran to give instructions to Aveline.

Perhaps it was the poison talking – but he would have liked nothing more than to blast the elf off of the face of Thedas. Fenris had noticed the mage glaring at him and for a moment was torn between smirking in the man's direction or glowering back; he chose the latter, his stance shifting into a defensive position.

"We've got company!"

The warning cry forced the pair to defend themselves and the elf darted away quicker than any man had any right to be to help stem the wave of enemies trying to flood Aveline and Hawke. The blonde danced and parried her way towards the mage, defending his flank when anyone got too near before sprinting off to sink her blades into the exposed throat of an archer.

Anders swayed slightly on the spot, the battle having forced him to take more frequent, larger gulps of air and he wearily tugged the point of his staff from the ground, sliding it into position on his back. Marea's panicked cry had him bolting to her side in seconds only to see her crouched over that bloody elf who seemed to be intent on vomiting his liver up.

_Let him... _he thought spitefully, _Hope he chokes, self-righteous bastard._

"Anders, don't just stand there heal him. Start with the glowy and stop him from being sick."

Hawke could see the reluctance in his gaze and pushed herself to her feet to glare at him, taking a step forward until he was pinned and quailing marginally under her look. At least he had the decency to look ashamed...a little. "Now."

He didn't waste any more time and channelling his magic he placed his hand on the man's back, gritting his teeth. The things he did for her. He would have gladly put the elf out of his misery and if he kept cursing him quietly in Arcanum he still would. Eventually he pulled away and Fenris pushed himself to his feet, unsteadily which prompted Hawke to help, which sent Anders' teeth grinding once more.

"I need everyone to fan out and find a latch, we'll try and get as many of these barrels locked down before more crazies come and ruin the party, alright?" Marea's voice was firm despite her attempts of light heartedness and the group could tell she was starting to buckle under the strain of what they were doing. She wanted them out and rightly so.

They each bobbed their heads before sprinting off to do as she said, Marea careful to stay close to Aveline in case they had anymore unwanted visitors and Anders keeping as far away from Fenris as was feasibly possible while following orders. He'd just bent down to retrieve the latch he'd located from the ground when he felt a knee in the crook of his lower back pushing him roughly into the dirt. The mage reached round to grip his staff to fight off his unseen assailer when a foot kicked his hand away, planting on his back and pushing the air out of him.

"Stay away from her, Mage."

"F-Fenris? Get the fuck off me you deranged – "

The lyrium infused elf growled, actually _growled_, under his breath and pressed his ribs a little harder into the ground, the latch digging into his stomach uncomfortably. "I've seen the way you watch her, and she might be too naive to see the pain you'll cause her but I am not. You will stay away from her, or you'll find yourself missing a heart. And I'd like to see you heal **that**."

With a battle cry Anders lashed out with a strength he hadn't even realised he'd possessed, taking Fenris by surprise and sending them both to the ground, wrestling angrily. They both ignored the two shouts and his hands burst into flame as the lyrium in the elf's body exploded into life, however before either of them could find purchase against each other Anders was pulled up and away from him in one fluid movement. Fenris was equally as restrained when he tried to jump to his feet and follow by Marea who had her hands planted firmly on his chest.

"Stop it! _Both_ of you! I know you hate each other, but I won't let you turn on one another because the poison's heightening it. We are all reasonable adults, _not _children bickering in the Chantry courtyard," she hissed, struggling to keep the elf from brushing her aside. As Fenris snarled and clenched his teeth spitting something at the mage in Arcanum the blonde bought her hand across his cheek and without thinking he retaliated. It only seemed to be when the man saw blood seeping through her fingers clutching her jaw that he came to his senses.

Anders on the other hand was only incensed at the injury and struggled all the more vehemently against Aveline and her holding grasp. He ground his teeth when Marea gave the elf a small smile and patted his forearm at his mumbled apology; it wasn't until she set her unnerving green eyes on him that he froze. At a small gesture from Hawke Aveline silently, if not reluctantly, released the mage and retrieved the latch, jogging to shut the final barrel.

"He struck you."

Hawke's gaze softened and she inclined her head, removing her hand so he could see and heal the four slits across her jaw where Fenris' gauntlets had cut her. "That he did, but he won't do it again."

The elf grumbled his agreement and watched, shamefaced, as Anders brushed his glowing fingers across the scratches. The mage was still shaking in anger, more than ready to defend her honour (and _Maker_ when had he become so chivalrous?) but at the pointed look she sent his way he forced himself to calm, the air around them clearing slightly without the barrels pumping out their noxious wares.

All four of them stiffened when they heard the heavy pounding of boots on stone and Hawke immediately pulled away from Anders healing touch, the incisions only half scabbed over, still pink around the edges as she stalked, followed by the others, towards the foot of the stairs. Stopping a few feet short she looked up at the short, female elf glaring down at them. Holding her hands up the blonde relaxed her posture, "Easy...We're only trying to figure out what's going on."

The elf sneered and leant over the wall, squinting as if to get a good look at her, "Is that...Serah Hawke...**You **have enemies...I'm glad it's you really. These poor people...You are a much better target."

Had the situation not been so tense Anders would have laughed when Marea pinched the bridge of her nose, grumbling under her breath, "Hello, lunatic." After a moment however she glowered up at the elf, her previous notion that the woman was just trying to escape apparently over as she asked, nonchalantly, "Care to tell me _which _particular brand of crazy you are? There are so many I get confused."

"_Hawke_..."

Marea waved off Aveline's worries and crossed her arms irritably, cocking her hip. It was a stance they were all familiar with, and it never meant good things.

"The Qunari take my people! My siblings forget their culture and then run to the Qun for purpose! We're losing them twice! So, I get some help from your people. We'll take the Qunari thunder, make some accidents and let them take the blame...Make them **hated**...But this...this is all wrong," the elf woman shifted in distress, pacing behind the wall like a caged tiger.

"It's a _poison_," the blonde hissed and snorted angrily, "What did you expect would happen. People _die _from it not just get sick!"

It was then they realised that the woman had been hit by her own toxin, she was babbling, ignoring whatever Hawke said as if she hadn't spoken. The threat at the end of her tirade had them tighten together however, she and Anders shifting behind Aveline and Fenris, their issues forgotten for the moment in the face of danger. More mercenaries flooded the streets and the four had no choice but to spread out under the pressure, leaving both Anders and Hawke open to larger enemies.

As Marea dipped into the shadows a second time to evade the deranged elf Anders sent a fireball skirting past the two warriors who were tearing down the remaining mercenaries. He was so focused on destroying the last few men so Aveline and Fenris could help Hawke with the woman stalking her the surprised shriek of pain jarred his senses.

There, just to his right was that bitch, sword slick with blood with Marea clutching her gut, the enforced corset sliced through as if it were butter. The blonde managed to weakly parry a few more blows before her legs gave way beneath her and she attempted to shuffled back and away. That gore covered blade lifted high as if to drive down to finish the job but the elf never got that far, knocked back suddenly by the sheer force of the rock fist that collided with her side.

"Fenris! Aveline!"

Both warriors were already tearing towards Hawke and her assailant and bore down on the elf with all the fury of the Maker himself, but Anders was too busy tearing the remainder of the blonde's clothes from her body. His heart thudded against his chest. She was pale, far too pale and the blood was flowing quicker than he knew how to stem. Her eyes were closed and her chest barely moved with the effort it took to fill her lungs with air.

"No! Please don't be dead. Please!"

Expressive green eyes, shimmering with agony cracked open to regard him as gentle hands helped her from her propped position against the wall, careful not to jostle her too much. She relaxed as he rested her flat against the cold ground and she suppressed a shiver, grimacing at him in a half smile. "N-Not yet..."

"Don't try to talk...Just focus on me, don't close your eyes you – "

"Might not wake up," she finished with a rasp and gritted her teeth as he tenderly prodded at the soft skin of her belly, his hands aflame with his magic.

He could feel Justice floating just behind the haze of panic and anger, eager to strike out at the prone form of the elf but equally as confused over the need to do so. At any other point Anders would have been very smug that the spirit was actually _bewildered_ by the human emotions he couldn't begin to fathom, but his mind was set on keeping Hawke alive and **breathing**.

It didn't help when he had Fenris breathing down his neck like an untrained Mabari. "Stand somewhere else, _elf_," he ground out quietly, glancing over his shoulder.

"Not likely, _mage_. I don't trust yo – "

"I'm so glad that my bleeding to death hasn't ruined your friendship," Marea teased hoarsely as Anders rummaged in her pouch to retrieve the bandages he knew she kept there. "I was worried for a moment. I could feel the love."

To their surprise the elf gave a bark of laughter and shook his head, half a smile on his lips. "And **I **am glad that your brush with death hasn't ruined your sense of humour, Hawke."

The woman gave him a weak smile and patted Anders shaking hands as he finished binding the mostly healed wound. He frowned, ready to launch into a long rant about how she should be more _careful_, but she silenced him before he could begin by pressing a bloody finger to his lips, "Shh, Anders...You can shout at me later, right now I'd like to go home, clean up and go to bed...You're free to stay and keep an eye on me if you like, but I refuse to stay in that blasted clinic again."

Anders gave the blonde a wry smile and shook his head, "You are by far the most...**stubborn **woman I have ever met."

"Or likely to ever meet again," she chuckled before glancing down at her bare torso, the hint of a blush, stark against her otherwise ashen face, tinting her cheeks. "Where are my clothes?"

The mage had the decency to look shamed by his actions, even as he leered at her, and rubbed the back of his neck, "I had to cut them away when I was healing you."

Hawke pouted and Anders cringed, feeling even worse than he had before undoing the buckles on his much larger coat and shrugged out of it. Wrapping it around her shoulders her helped her slid her arms into the sleeves and watched her bite her lip before looking between her companions with a small smile. "Just another day, huh? Now, who's going to carry me home?"

While Anders and Fenris glowered at each other, trying to solve the dilemma through a game of wills Aveline sighed and scooped the smaller woman up with a cluck of her tongue. "You're a little tease, Marea," she said fondly, striding ahead of the two simmering males.

"I know," she giggled tiredly, resting her head against the uncomfortable plating across the red head's chest. "It's fun, no?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Nine**

"Things keep getting worse."

Marea stared at Anders for a moment before shaking her head, putting her hands on her hips. "Well hello to you too," she mumbled under her breath with a roll of her eyes and the mage looked ashamed for one fleeting second before turning the gaze she had aptly named 'the puppy eyes' on her. Sighing she folded her arms, "What's wrong?"

"I had Templars practically at my doorstep the other night, the only reason they didn't find me was because the refugees down here covered my arse," he hissed, glowering down at the dirt. It had taken every part of his willpower to keep Justice in check, to remain hidden instead of _destroying _the bastards.

Throwing her hands up in the air the blonde groaned in annoyance, pointing her finger in between his eyes with a sense of finality. Strange how she could always make him feel like a child who'd done wrong. "Don't tell me these things! I might have to kidnap you and lock you up; to keep them off of you, of course."

Unable to help himself Anders chuckled, answering her teasing with easy familiarity, "Sweetheart, I'm not letting anyone lock me up...Even you."

"Oh fine, you say that now, but just you wait," she flirted with a small smile, giggling when shock flittered over his features. It was nice to turn the tables, if only for once; it was always him that fought with threats and promises, so why not fight fire with fire. "But have it your way. We haven't spoken in a while...How are you?"

He could tell she was tentative to ask, as if the slightest thing might set him off, and he had to admit with the Justice-induced migraine he'd had hammering in his head over the last week he didn't blame her. "Oh, good. Yes. I absolutely _love_what Knight-Commander Meredith has done with the place," he grumbled sarcastically, though he forced back the bite to his voice when she stared down at her feet. "The curfews, the midnight raids on mage's families; everyone I know forced into hiding so they won't be made Tranquil."

Marea's gaze became one of stony determination. "If they want **you **they'll have to come through me."

"Just being with me puts you at risk; the Knight-Commander had declared supporting Apostates a hanging offence...The thought of them hurting you...Everything I've done to control this – I don't care. I would drown us in blood to keep you safe."

"How...romantic," the blonde said quietly, raising her eyebrow incredulously.

He scowled.

"**I mean it Hawke**. If any of them were to touch you – "

"I don't want you to lose yourself; to the Templars or Justice."

Anders snorted and crossed his arms, turning away to glower out of the door at the lethargic to and fro of Darktown life; he didn't need to look at Hawke to know she was glaring at him. He could practically feel the heat, and he could feel her shift her weight onto one leg. "How much is left if you strip both those out," he hissed bitterly before glancing over his shoulder, cringing at the miserable expression on the young woman's face. "I- I'm sorry, I can't be anyone but who I am; there will be more violence, I know that...if you tie yourself to me I'll only hurt you."

"Nothing would hurt as much as losing you."

The sincerity in her voice was like a slap to the face. Shaking his head he shifted to face her and took her hands in his, "You don't want this. I have no control around you. You could have a normal life; you don't want an Apostate. Don't tempt me, not unless you're ready for what that truly means."

The scowl of disgust cut deep across Hawke's features as she tugged her hands from his grasp mercilessly. So what had the last three years been? Every time she saw him she tried to let him know how much she cared, how much (Maker forbid) she wanted him...and every time she tried he pushed her away with the same excuses. _I'll __**hurt**__ you. I'll break your heart. _Honestly she was getting to the point where she was considering asking Isabella for help...and 'Bella was never an option...

"Don't bullshit me, Anders. Don't stand there telling me what I do and don't want, I get enough of that crap from my mother."

Hawke watched Ander's look down at his feet in embarrassment, she knew he'd noticed the strain the change in her and mother's relationship had put on her...After so many years of being ignored, of fending for herself without having to worry about whether or not Leandra would be at the door, skulking about the corridors waiting for her. Suddenly having her mother's attention and affection thrust on her was unnerving and wholly unwanted. She wasn't used to it and Marea certainly couldn't shaking off the feeling that the older woman was just trying to fill the void Bethany's death and left.

Her suspicions were heightened when she'd find a new dress laid out for her on her bed, or when she found jewels and powders and vials of sweet smelling oils littering her bedroom. Although she wasn't against behaving and feeling like a woman for a while, she took offence that it was only now her sister was gone that mother was interested in 'training' her like she had Bethany. Lenadra had even gone so far as to offer to braid Hawke's hair for her the other night...

She tried not to think on the flicker of hurt in her mother's eyes when she'd declined and locked herself in her room.

When the mage didn't say a word to defend himself or to apologise she shook her head, growling under her breath and stalked towards the doors. Marea's step faltered for a moment before she turned to look over her shoulder, pinning him in place with her steely regard. "Oh. If you want to know what's left if you stripped away Justice and the Templars, look around, Anders. _This_ is what's left; you **help **people when no one else will so much as spare a glance. That's not the work of a heartless man."

Hawke's gazed softened at the pained look on the mage's face, half expecting him to say something; however when no words were said and he determinedly set about rearranging the tiny vials lining the wall to his left the blonde threw her hands in the air once more.

"Why do I even bloody bother? Sod it all!"

And Anders was once more left to his, turbulent, thoughts.

* * *

Hawke didn't come to his clinic for nearly a fortnight. It didn't take blood magic to know she was angry with him and Anders was too much of a coward to find her. He avoided the Hanged Man like it harboured the plague; he had no doubt that she would be there with Varric and the others playing cards and the idea of meeting her, especially with their friends about (namely Aveline) set his nerves on edge. Not to mention he liked having all of his limbs attached, thank you very much.

As such he'd been shocked when she burst into the clinic with Fenris and Merrill trailing behind her and had asked him if she would help her. He hadn't waited for details before he agreed with Justice's disapproval of his impulsiveness ringing in the back of his mind. Marea hadn't given him any; she'd just nodded once and had turned to leave just as quickly as she'd come.

Kodi had bounded up to him excitedly when he followed her out into Darktown, licking his hands, his coat and even going so far as to propping himself up on his hind legs to give his face the appropriate greeting. Spluttering Anders pushed the Mabari from him and wiped his face on the back of his sleeve, only find more saliva spread over his cheeks...

_Don't wretch, don't wretch..._

"Enough!" he said firmly and the hound paused in his joyous circle to cock his head in his direction questioningly, "I don't like all of this slobbery affection...Be a real pet. Ignore me until you want something and then – and then sit on my head."

Chuffing happily the Mabari wagged his stumpy tail, gave his hand one last lick before bouncing to his mistress who patted him on the head, watching him from behind her hair. She...She'd done that on purpose...Sneaky, horrible woman that she was.

Sighing, the mage wiped his hands clean on a dry patch of his coat before cleaning his face off, grumbling quietly under his breath. "Maker I miss Ser Pounce-a-lot..."

The trip to the Alienage was strangely quiet and sombre – something he hadn't expected from Varric and Merrill. Usually the dwarf would entertain the aspiring blood mage with stories, either about Hawke's daring or of little tales he made up on the spot and adapted as she gave him elements to work off; it had always resulted in some highly entertaining anecdotes on their companions.

When they got there he was surprised to see Marethari studying the large tree in the centre, waiting for something, or someone. As Hawke descended the steps she turned to face them, inclining her head once and the blonde paid the same respect. Neither moved for a long moment and Anders could only watch as the two women regarded each other in solemn silence before they both walked into the ramshackle home to their right; he could do nothing but follow.

* * *

"I had not thought to return in such a way."

Marea looked over her shoulder and frowned at the strange tone in Anders' voice, familiar from the few times Justice had forced his way to the front of his mind and seized control. Fenris and Merrill stopped a little ahead of them both watching quietly and more than ready to intervene should the need arise, the elf tense as he glared at the spirit beside her; but Hawke wasn't going to let it get that far, not with the Keeper's warning in her head. To strike Feynriel down in the Fade would make him Tranquil in their world...

Maker knew she couldn't do that to a teenage boy, not when the reason he was like this was because of her inability to see past the Circle's lies...And she'd certainly never do it to Anders; even if the spirit inside of him tried to strike her down here.

"It is good to feel the breath of the Fade again, not the _empty_ air of **your **world."

Hawke scowled. "Ah, Justice, your words as always leave a warm feeling inside every time you speak to me. Truly, your manners leave me speechless."

Though now she thought about it the way Anders' eyes glowed was oddly...beautiful. She _could_get used to it, if not for Justice's general lack of interest in his mage's wellbeing.

"Anders told you of me." It was a statement, not a question...and from the way Justice refused to meet her eye she could have sworn he was trying to avoid her. Which was of course impossible – Anders had made it perfectly clear that he was a spirit and that spirits didn't feel as humans felt. Still, if she didn't know any better...

"Come, we should go. I sense Feynriel's mind straining; we will not have much time."

Clearly the absence she'd had from Anders had done something to addle her brain, because now she certain that there was accusation in the spirits voice. Shaking her head the blonde jogged after Anders – or rather Justice in Anders' body..._Maker_this was getting confusing...

No sooner had they descended the stairs of the Gallows (Marea shuddered at the bizarreness of it all) that they were confronted by a demon. It was a slender, languid thing, slithering about the ground like a snake; from her few encounters she'd had with such things she realised it was a Shade. A creature of sloth and deception. As she stepped into point Hawke felt Justice spark into life behind her, his magic and raw power sending her hair on end pleasantly.

"Well...It's rare to see two forgotten magics in one day. It's usually a slow existence in the Fade, not many surprises; I wasn't sure I'd like this one but it has...potential." The blonde trembled with the effort of willpower it took to keep her mind focused on what she had come to do; the sound of the demon's voice alone was powerful enough and it was only the incessant crackle of Justice in the background invigorating her body that stopped her from simply closing her eyes. Not to mention she **really** didn't like the sound of that...Who had any idea the word 'potential' could be so – so _slimy_?

"A demon of Sloth, it exists to make men forget their purpose and their pride, do not relax around it."

"Yes thank you for that, Justice, I have everything under control and I am _perfectly_ aware of what the demon is," Marea snapped, crossing her arms irritably her hip, much to Varric's amusement, popping as she glowered at the spirit behind her. Did he have to sound so _patronizing_? Did he truly think her a fool? She was the daughter of an **Apostate** for the love of Andraste's flaming sword, she wasn't about to make a deal with a demon.

"Call me Torpor...I have a proposition that might interest you."

Hawke shook her head immediately and sliced a hand tetchily through the air in front of her. "Absolutely not. I'm not in the habit of accepting deals from demons and I certainly don't feel like starting now."

"Hawke you should at least listen to what it wants to offer. We could use it..."

"No, Merrill. Demons turn on you and I've made up my mind, I swear if anyone tries to convince me otherwise I'm going to go mad," she hissed and reached round to unsheathe her daggers. Her group could only watch in surprise as she launched herself forward, the blade embedding in the creature's skull with a strength that belied her small stature.

More burst from the floor as Hawke continued to battle against the weakening effects of the Demon. As she raised her hand to sink her dagger into its insubstantial flesh one last time before it could incapacitate her further, Marea stared in shock as the creature burst into a cloud of dust, momentarily choking her. Justice lowered his hand, electricity jumping from his fingers and set his unreadable gaze on her.

It was Merrill who approached her first, to counter the demon's curses, and even as Marea turned to converse in hushed, tense tones with the mage she could feel his expressionless blue orbs on her back.

* * *

It had torn at Marea's heartstrings when Merrill had turned on her; but she couldn't bring herself to blame her friend for the transgression. Merrill had so much to prove, to herself and to her clan that the blonde was hardly surprised when the elf had turned her staff on her instead of the powerful demon in front of them; she would have to remember to go and speak to the poor girl when she woke. She was almost certain that Merrill would be beside herself for attacking her 'lethallan' and she wasn't about to make her feel any worse about the entire situation...And yet she could barely keep control of her own emotions and miserable shock.

She had thought she was close to the small brunette, and though she could never fill the hole losing her clan had left she'd hoped that she'd meant something to the elf. Apparently not. Fenris hadn't dared to comment on the tears that she convinced herself weren't there but Justice had stood in front of her, shifting his weight so she couldn't get past him.

Now she _wasn't _imagining the confusion on his face, but she didn't think she had the patience to try and explain such a complex emotion with the spirit, especially not when the pain was still fresh. However, after a moment or so he'd brushed the damp away from her cheeks and turned without a word to stride across the entrance hall to the bottom of the next staircase.

"Tis a Demon of desire behind this door. Be warned."

Bobbing her head in thanks Hawke quickly ushered her way past the confusing spirit trying to focus herself for what was coming next.

However, as it was, nothing could have prepared any of them for what the demon would say.

* * *

"You! You turned him against me."

Hawke snorted and crossed her arms for the second time since they'd entered the Fade, raising an eyebrow as the demon passed her hands over her breasts. Honestly...she'd managed to turn down _Isabella_plenty of times, and there was nothing she was certain that this creature had that the pirate didn't.

"Oh? I'm so terribly sorry, I was trying to help. Honest," came Hawke's dry retort as she glowered at the demon that would have preyed on an innocent boy. Having an apostate for a father who had taught all of his children the theory behind magic seemed to have given her a level of immunity to the creatures of the Fade, mostly; she had to work on keeping her mind focused, but it was possible. She just needed to concentrate of Justice's presence behind her and she would be fine.

"You take my pets...and yet you're no better than the boy," the demon hissed through its teeth, glaring at Hawke with barely masked loathing and fury. "You stand there adamant that I cannot touch you but I can see in your heart, little girl and it's as full of desire as mine is to make your desires come true. Always the secondary woman, people _loved_ your sister; how could they not - and how could anyone even so much as look at **you** when **she** was around? Even your little Apostate found something kindred in her. I see your desire to be more beautiful, wittier; _charming_so you can have your man, so he can't deny you anymore. I could give it to you, for the right price of course. The boy, for this, it's a fair trade is it not?"

"Still your lies, Demon!" Justice roared, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder to steady her; it simply sent her mind spiralling out of control. For a moment she thought of everything she wanted to do to him, things she'd only ever been able to imagine from the lewd books Isabella crammed into her shelves in the study as she moved her inexperienced fingers over her body on a night. Fingers that had learnt to play her so well and longed to learn what made Anders _sing_.

She would part his robe and run her fingers over his chest, the shirt he wore beneath was thin, she knew from experience in far less pleasurable situations and she would kiss his neck until he begged her for more. Then when he couldn't take the teasing and was sure to go mad with desire she'd help him undress and would settle between those glorious thighs and take him into her mouth until even _Justice_couldn't hold back any longer.

Maker she could hear him calling her name already, the rugged ecstasy rasping his throat hoarse as he stuttered to completion, the icy fire burning across his skin as Justice thrust into her mouth...

Marea bit her lip hard, the tang of blood and the sharp pain bringing her back to her senses. Electricity was dancing across the hard planes of Anders' body as Justice sought to release the overly warm and horrendously embarrassed Hawke from the demon's spell.

"Lies are they?" the wicked incarnate of a woman chuckled, her vivid violet eyes settled unnervingly on her thrall. "She seems awfully flushed for someone who _doesn't_ desire the man inside you, **spirit**. Even now I can sense her carnal desire; she wants you as much as she wants Ande – "

"**Silence**! You shall not have **her**!"

The air was thick and for an instant both Hawke and Fenris were left gasping for air as Justice twisted the Fade against the creature of lust in front of them. Its inhuman shriek of anger and agony had her clasp her hands over her ears as the spirit's cleansing fire burned in her veins, chasing away every last trace of the demon's enchantment in a matter of moments.

Gasping silently Marea took the outstretched hand the spirit extended to her and he gently, far more so than she ever expected from him, helped her to regain her footing as the nausea subsided. "I – I feel like I've spent an evening at the Hanged Man and woken up in a gutter with no recollection of how I got there or who's trousers I'm wearing..."

"This has...happened before?" Justice asked after a long silence, tentative as he manhandled the woman his host was so infinitely fond of. He was...beginning to understand why, he thought.

"Only once...And I have no intentions of doing it again."

The spirit regarded her, silent and sombre, as Fenris shifted to their left, coughing softly to try and turn their attentions back to the task at hand. Eventually Justice let go of her and stepped back and out of her personal space, leaving her skin oddly cold against the chill of the Fade. "We will see to the boy and then," he paused until the blonde was looking at her, "You and I will be talking, Hawke."

If that sentence didn't fill her with equal parts dread and excitement nothing ever would. With a grave nod Marea turned out of the door, chewing her lower lip as she went.

* * *

The tendrils of power holding her to the Fade had changed, instead of feeling the golden strand of yarn wrapped about her wrist to slither across the floor and disappear into nothing it had changed to a possessive cold blue, tightened about her waist and led straight to...Marea had to swallow thickly, Justice.

_Maker he knows...He __**knows**__ that I want to...and he's going to kill me because of it...Please Maker no! I don't want to die a virgin, if __**Sebastian **__has got to have sex don't let me die without feeling a man's touch..._

However the smiting she was expecting never came and after a tentative moment or so the blonde turned her gaze to look at Justice's expression. He didn't look like he wanted to maim her, which was something she supposed; instead there was a flicker of...confusion, puzzlement and...awe. He was gazing at her like she was a particularly hard riddle that he was desperate to figure out.

She was about to ask what he wanted to speak to her about when he finally broke the awkwardness.

"I – admit I do not understand."

Blinking Hawke frowned before shaking her head, "I don't – "

"I can feel what Anders feels for you and...I **felt **what you felt when we were conversing with that demon; but I do not understand. What makes a man look at a woman and..."

Some sense of decency had the spirit trailing off into silence and Marea couldn't help but be grateful for that. She'd already felt like her head would burst from the heat her blush created once today, she didn't want to experience it again. Justice locked his eyes on her face, hesitantly raising a hand to gently brush the skin of her cheek, where he'd wiped her tears away earlier.

He looked so...desperate for some form of answer that the blonde found herself speaking before she'd thought about what she was saying. "You're not meant to understand it, Justice – I know I don't. It's part of being human, it's how the Maker chose to make us and I don't feel like questioning him."

"No...But you're distracting him from our cause. He is more concerned keeping you safe than stopping the oppression the mages deal with every day."

Timidly she soothingly took his hand in hers, pulling it away from her face with a small sigh. "I know it's hard to recognize, Justice but there is more to life than the oppression of the mages; there are plenty more injustices people face every day. Men beat their wives, they kill each other, the Chantry has prejudices against more than just magic and it's an injustice for you to stop a man from having a woman who cares about him."

The spirit didn't move, instead just stared at the blonde in front of him, concentration etched into his features. When a response wasn't forthcoming Hawke squeezed his hand and bought it to her lips, brushing her mouth against his knuckles, wary of the way he tensed but made no move to pull his hand from her. "I...care for Anders deeply. He knows that but what I don't think he realises is that I care as deeply for you as I do for him. You might not have always been part of him, but you are now and I wouldn't change any part of him. The cause for the mages is part of who he is and I'll help him fight for it, but I can't do that if you refuse to let me near."

"I...do not know what to say."

"Then don't say anything, just think about how you feel."

Releasing the spirit's hand Marea bit her lower lip, watching his features change with each thought that cross his head; perhaps creatures of the Fade could feel as much as humans. Or perhaps Justice was feeding from Anders' own emotions to spur him on. Whatever the case she couldn't have been more surprised when strong hands cupped her jaw and pulled her face to his for a bruising kiss.

There was no tenderness, simply the raw desire and need; she could only think that love was too complicated for him to understand yet. She would give him time. Tenderly she helped slow the battle of hot tongues and soft lips to a more affectionate gesture before parting, her fingers caressing the steady pulse she felt there.

"I shall let you have this should he want it...for now. But know I will be watching, little one, and waiting for the moment where your mild distracting becomes too influential."

Before Hawke could so much as _breathe_the Fade dissolved around her and with a jerk she awoke with a gasp on Arianni's floor.

Smiling slightly she pressed her fingers to her lips, ignoring Fenris' curiosity to revel in the after bliss of that strange kiss. It was not what she had expected their first kiss to be like, but she certainly wasn't complaining. As she pushed herself up she heard the frantic thud of boots on the hardwood floor and as she turned to stare at the place Anders had been when they'd entered the Fade she was shocked to see the flash of his coat as he fled the Alienage.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Ten**

_Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Oh Maker. Andraste's sweet flaming __**arse**__ what had possessed __**Justice**__ to do __**that**__?_

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could feel the spirit shifting, smug and...sated? Well that certainly wasn't an emotion he was used to feeling from his resident conscience; usually there was only the near constant throb to act, to see justice be done. But now...the spirit was silent, thrumming with confused exhilaration beneath the many layers of his consciousness. And he knew why...

Even through the induced haze that befell him whenever Justice took over he could feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, the quickening of her pulse as he'd leant in to plunder the taste and warmth of her mouth. She tasted as sweet as she smelt, honey and heady spices with a soft undertone he couldn't place that was so uniquely _Hawke_. And even as he treasured the new information he was repulse by it; _Justice_had...taken something that he had wanted first.

Anders hadn't been the one to kiss her Justice had, and the spirit didn't seem to see that as a problem, they were one in the same but that wasn't true. He had felt how roughly he'd taken her face in his hands; he had felt the shock jar her body before she hesitantly returned the affection and it sickened him. A first kiss should have been gentle, it would have perhaps become tinged with desperation but the first throes should have been tender. Slamming the doors to his clinic closed the mage stormed to the partition that separated his room from the clinic and rested his forehead against the screen.

How could he look her in the eye when he'd done that? She wanted him yes, but she had no idea what that meant; he didn't know if he could control himself and now Justice had seemed to taken a liking to the idea of having the woman being with them he was even more worried than before. He would hurt her, break her heart if not her body and he couldn't stomach that. But the way she had looked at him, the way she'd swept her tongue around his mouth, across his teeth and the finally twist with his own tongue had him groaning in appreciation.

It had been bad enough when he'd only had his imagination to feed his obsession, but now he'd experienced what it was to kiss her (albeit second hand) the coiling tension in his abdomen was worse than ever. Growling under his breath the mage turned and paced the length of the clinic like a caged animal, electricity simmering over his skin, crackling in the silence. He didn't even know where to begin unravelling the tight knot of anger, anxiety and self-loathing sat in his stomach.

So in the end he simply allowed his magic to run rampant and for nearly half an hour he was stood in the middle of his clinic burning like a beacon.

* * *

Four days later he had an unwanted visitor.

Hawke.

Anders wasn't sure he was glad that the woman was still happy to speak to him or irritated that wasn't threatening to drive her daggers into his gut. She just walked in like she owned the place and smiled at him as if nothing had happened...And in a way he had to agree, it had been the Fade, they were simply wearing the forms they had in the real world while their bodies slumbered. It had felt real, but the only part of the young blonde he'd violated was her mind.

"Anders, I need your help saving some Qunari. The Viscount need's to get the Ambassador back to the Arishok alive and well, which requires a Healer. It might take a little while so – "

"No."

Marea's face fell and frowning she tilted her head curiously; "I don't understand...You don't want it to take a while? I mean I can come back when we're ready to head off, but I still can't make any promises, Pertrice is involved and you remember what a bitch she was."

"I'm not coming," Anders said quietly, not looking up from the piece of paper he was scribbling furiously on. "I've been neglecting the clinic too much recently; I have a backlog."

The rogue looked around the empty room, her frown deepening and she crossed the clinic to gently place her hand on his shoulder. "If this about what happened in the Fade, I don – "

"It doesn't have anything to do with what happened in the Fade," he lied easily and shrugged her touch away, getting to his feet to resolutely 'tidy' the vials on the shelf. "Though while we're on the subject it should never have happened, and I'm sorry it did."

"What in the Void is wrong with you?"

_I have a pounding headache and I feel like I'm being torn apart from the inside because all I want to do is pin you to something and have my wicked way with you...And Maker help me even __**Justice**__ wants in on the action._

"**Nothing **is wrong with me, Hawke; I'm just too busy to gallivant over Kirkwall today," Anders mumbled and turned to look at her. He was soon wishing he hadn't however when she bought her hand across his face with a deafening crack.

"You pathetic, childish _bastard_. You're going to put our friend's lives at risk because you have an issue with me? Well sod it, Anders you can fuck right off to the Void for all I care. If you don't want me around anymore then Maker knows you've got your wish, I'll tell everyone that you're no longer open for service; if they want to stay in contact with you that's their business. Goodbye, Anders."

_It's for the best. It's for the best. Let her go. You would've broken her heart at some point._The mantra in his head was the only thing that kept his feet planted to the ground as Anders watched Marea storm out of the clinic.

* * *

The afternoon bought another surprise. There, standing in his doorway looking as uncomfortable as any noble would in Darktown, was Leandra Hawke. He'd seen her many a time when he'd gone to their estate in Hightown; she would always regard him silently for a long moment before smiling and saying that Marea would be down soon – however she'd always watch him with a curious gaze as he disappeared into the study bickering with the small blonde. She was always..._watching_; it was baffling **and **unsettling.

And now she was staring at him with unreadable eyes as he watched her from his desk, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

"Lady Leandra..." he greeted finally, stumbling over his words as he tried to think of what to call her, calling the woman 'Hawke's mother' seemed so...demeaning, messere and serah were too formal and just using her name was too informal.

She bobbed her head in a similar fashion to her daughter, seemingly oblivious to his inner ramblings, and surveyed the clinic in silence. Anders considered himself appropriately unnerved and quietly got to his feet, walking towards his friend's mother anxiously. He should say something...Yes, he should definitely say something, but as he opened his mouth to speak she locked her eyes on him and his words died in his throat.

At least now he knew that Hawke's ability to unnerve people was hereditary; she'd probably learnt it from the woman standing before him.

"Can I – Can I help you?"

"I'm not ill, Anders," Leandra said politely after a moment of heavy observation, moving to perch on the edge of one filthy cot. "I've come to speak to you about my daughter, actually."

His heart throbbed into his throat cutting off his airways and the mage raised a hand, opening his mouth to defend himself. However the woman once again didn't give him the opportunity. "Marea and I...well let's say we don't see eye to eye. It's taken me a while to accept it but I can see that it's mostly my fault; and despite what my daughter might think I care for her deeply." She turned her unwavering gaze on him at this point, "I gave birth to her, I reared her, I watched her grow into the fierce, independent young woman that she is now, you cannot even begin to fathom the depths of my affection for her; and while we _do_ argue I am still her mother. And I will _not_sit by and watch her get hurt; do we understand each other, Anders?"

"I have no intentions of hurting your daughter, ma'am. I'm – "

"Intentions or not you **are**."

Anders' throat constricted at the information and he looked down at his boots, ashamed of himself as she looked at him. _Maker _the Hawke women were a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't known Bethany for very long, and while she had been a dangerous mage he'd never seen this side to the girl before she'd died. When he didn't immediately answer her accusation Leandra got to her feet and moved to stand in front of him.

"I am old, Anders. Maker knows I wish I wasn't but I _am_; if I could have my time again He knows I wouldn't change anything – I would still have run away with my late husband, so, me telling her that it would be in her best interests to stay away from you would seem rather hollow. So I feel I should warn **you**, I won't allow you to break her heart; certainly not if it's in my power to do so. Have I made myself clear?"

Unable to do anything other than nod the mage took a step back and away from the woman as she stared at him. She was making him feel like he was seven years old again and stealing sweets from the Circle's stores, "You refused to help her save some Qunari from a Templar today. Why?"

"I can't trust myself around her."

He could see in her eyes that she respected his honesty but what he hadn't expected was for her to cluck her tongue and shake her head. "I can tell you're not just worried about your desire to bed her," she said after moment and chuckled as he spluttered his embarrassment.

He was **not** having this conversation with Hawke's mother. It _wasn't _happening.

"I was young once, and happily married to an Apostate too, I'm perfectly aware of how young men's minds work, and though you're not as young as my daughter I have no doubt that you're as highly-strung as she is. I have to admit I wish that all I did have to worry about was that you were bedding her, it would be...easier to deal with than this."

"I don't want to be rude, ma'am," Ander's cringed at how much of a child he sounded, "But how do you know that we even had an argument?"

The woman's eyes glazed and she turned to look at the far wall, frowning to herself. "She came home to fetch Kodi...She was so upset that I think she forgot who she was talking to when I asked her what was wrong. I've rarely seen Marea cry in front of me, usually she tries to hide it, but you pushed her too far. You're so dead set on **not** hurting her that I don't think you realise you _are_. I'm not here to tell you that you have to love my daughter, Maker knows I would never force the women in my family on any man unless they fully understood **what **they were taking on...but I am here to tell you that if you care for her, even a little, that you'll either put her out of her misery for good or you'll admit you want her as much as she wants you."

Anders watched from the corner of his eye as Leandra brushed herself off, looking around the clinic again with a wry smile. "She _must _want you if she spends so much time down here, I can't imagine she does it because it's comfortable. How I really should get back to Lowtown, I think I've left my brother waiting long enough. Think about what I said, Anders."

As Leandra smiled at him and patted his pauldrons before disappearing from the clinic without another word, leaving him to mull over what she'd said.

It was the last time he saw the woman alive.

* * *

Maker knew she was starting to get sick of Qunari. They were becoming a near constant source of problems; Hawke had barely finished one task before she had to resolve another. The fight with Ser Varnell and his mob had been excruciating and lengthy; Merrill's basic understanding of healing had only just tipped the battle in their favour. As it was however the group had come out with nasty cuts and bruises that the elf had only been able to take the edge off of.

The Viscount hadn't been pleased. Not that she blamed him of course; his thin strand of power was slowly unravelling in front of him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. She wasn't surprised to see the soft skin beneath his eyes was puffy and bruised; he no doubt had many a sleepless night in the fort thinking about the madness that had gripped his city. Eventually however he had dismissed them and she, Aveline and Fenris slowly made their way back to Hightown and Merrill to the Alienage.

The spectacle that greeted her when she finally stepped through her front door made her sore temples throb painfully and turned the dull ache in her head from Varnell's pommel into an agonizing roar. Brushing aside Kodi's excited licks, obviously glad to be home, she stepped through the foyer into the entrance hall.

"Enchantment?"

"No! Leandra! Le-an-dra!"

"You know shouting at him isn't going to make him understand you," the blonde sighed hoarsely as she regarded her uncle. Sandal offered her a bright wave and she returned the greeting with a tight smile before glowering at Gamlen who was being altogether too **loud**.

"There you are!"

"Yes, Gamlen, I do live here you know." The man shot her a sour look and sighing again she crossed her arms, watching him irritably as he continued.

"Where's your mother? Is she feeling alright?"

Rolling her eyes the blonde padded over to the table on the right of the fireplace, sinking the washcloth in the basin Bodahn kept there for such occasions, holding the cool rag against the cut by her temple. "How should I know? When I last saw her she was breathing and walking, looked perfectly fine. What's wrong?"

"Your mother didn't show up for our weekly visit. She must be ill to have missed it. She is here, isn't she?"

Maker's breath how in the Void was she meant to know that? Had he failed to see she was still in her leathers, covered in blood and had only just walked in through the door? What a stupid question, of course she didn't know where her mother was, she hadn't been home since this morning...Her stomach growled. Ah yes, and she was hungry; which accounted for her foul mood.

"No Gamlen. The boy and I haven't seen her all day. Mistress Hawke has only just got home as you can see," Bodahn answered for her, two glasses of wine balanced on a tray as he watched the blonde pull a face at her uncle before dipping the rag in the water once more before she walked over to them.

"Where could she be?" He sounded as though he were talking more to himself than anyone else so when Marea rolled her eyes and stopped in front of him she was surprised when he snapped at her. "Don't look like that; I know you and Leandra don't have the best of relationships but surely you're worried?"

"Why should I be worried, uncle. It's barely nightfall; she'd probably forgotten about your visit and stayed for dinner at the de Launcets'. That woman can talk forever," Hawke reassured him and patted his arm once before dabbing at the cut to her lip.

Bodahn cleared his throat and looked up between the two humans with a small frown, "Or perhaps she is with her suitor."

Waving her cloth as she turned gratefully to take the glass from the dwarf, knocking it back with practised ease, Fenris would be proud; they'd spent many a night drinking together into the wee hours of the morning. "Yes, or perhaps she's with her suitor. Though she's been shifty about the whole thing, I'm starting to think the man doesn't exist."

"Suitor? Leandra never mentioned anything about a suitor."

"She _is _a grown woman, uncle, and I'm quite sure she doesn't want us to know the ins and outs of her love life. Maker knows I wish she didn't know about mine," Hawke grumbled and placed the glass on the tray, plucking the second up before Gamlen could even think about reaching for it.

"Those lilies arrived for her this afternoon, just before she left," Bodahn added with a sagely nod, pausing to look at his mistress when the glass slipped from her grasp to fall to the floor with a crash. "M'lady?"

Marea could feel the blood leave her face as she stared down at the dwarf, ignorant to his clucking as he ducked to retrieve the shards calling for Orana to get a cloth so he could mop away the liquid. Grasping his shoulders the blonde stopped him mid-stoop, her fingers digging into the firm muscle she could feel there, eyes wild. "You said lilies, Bodahn. Did they say who they were from?"

"No messere, they didn't have a note."

Hawke was pulling at the reams of bandages in her pouch within seconds, her mind racing into overdrive as she hastily bound her wounds, mindful not to tear the tender flesh Merrill had healed. She only spared a glance for her uncle when he suddenly asked, "Well don't just keep me waiting! What is it?"

"There's a killer in Kirkwall who sends his victims white lilies before he takes them," she explained quickly, gritting her teeth as she tightened the bandage around her thigh over the leather of her breeches and the long gash there. "He's murdered several women already."

"No," Gamlen protested weakly, as pale as she felt, "You're wrong. Leandra's fine."

"Well standing here denying it isn't going to make it less true, uncle!" the blonde snapped, unsheathing her blades to quickly wipe them down, dashing across the room to retrieve the potions, poisons and grenades she'd ordered from the table, stuffing them into her pouches in a blind panic.

"You don't know for sure that she's in trouble...Maybe she...took another path to my house. I could have missed her and she's let herself in. I'm going back to Lowtown."

"Do what you will, Gamlen," she hissed and patted her hip to coax Kodi from under the chair where he'd been hiding from her ire. "Bodahn, stay here and see if she comes back. I'm going to get Fenris and Aveline and I'll meet you – " She turned to her uncle who had paused in the doorway to watch her. " – down there. See if you can find anything out."

Without another word she ran from the hall and past Gamlen into the cool evening air.

* * *

Through sheer luck when she burst into Fenris' mansion Aveline had been there; both had ran from the room at the top of the staircase swords out to face the intruder. The look of fear and panic on her face had had them at her side in seconds. Hawke didn't stop to explain before she fled to Lowtown, the two warriors and Kodi hot on her heels.

Maker knew that if something happened to her mother she would never forgive herself.

* * *

The thick lock on the door to Anders' clinic had splintered easily when her boot collided with the wood. _**Hard**_.

"Where is she!"

Hawke watched as the mage himself appeared from behind the privacy screen in nothing but a pair of low slung trousers and boots, staff in hand as he prepared to defend himself, but when their eyes met over the expanse of the room he relaxed marginally. That was until she advanced on him, daggers out in warning.

"_Hawke_!" Avelinde barked behind her besides a (secretly gleeful) Fenris. "Calm down!"

"No Aveline. That kid said she had been coming up from Darktown and there's only one reason why she would even be down here," the blonde hissed, finally coming to a stop in front of him, her own terrified and determined eyes locked on Anders' surprised ones. "And he's standing right in front of me...What the fuck happened? Talk quickly or Andraste be my witness I won't hesitate, Anders."

She could see Justice shifting behind his eyes at the threat, the slight flicker of blue in his pupils before he gently held her shoulders. The subsequent tremble that started at the intimate gesture shocked both of them and Marea pulled away shaking her head; as much as she wanted to let the older man comfort her she couldn't afford to waste any time. Her **mother** was missing and Maker knew she wasn't sure _how _she felt. She just knew she needed to find her, and hold her and make sure that she was alive and well and whole.

"What're you talking about, Marea? Leandra came down here earlier yes, but she's been gone for hours. She said she was going to visit Gamlen, perhaps you should start there?"

With a hiss of distress and frustration Hawke stalked back towards the doors, pausing only when Aveline grasped her upper arm. "We'll find her, Hawke."

"I know," the blonde said softly, patting Kodi's head for reassurance as she disappeared into the darkness. "I have to."

* * *

"Marea!"

Looking over her shoulder the woman was surprised to see Anders running up the stairs after them, tugging his coat on as he took the ascent two steps at a time. Sighing irritably the rogue gestured for her two companions to wait and she turned to regard the Apostate coolly. "What do you want Anders?"

"Let me come with you."

Snorting the blonde shook her head, frowning, "Why should I, you made it pretty obvious that you don't want anything to do with me, why should my family be any different?"

_Maker she's going to make me beg...in front of __**Fenris**__...I know I deserve it but..._

"Look, Hawke I'm sorry. I'm a compulsive arse and you know it, it's in my nature," he said quietly, climbing the last couple of steps to stand next to her, frowning in concern. "And I don't want you to go through this alone. Because I'm a stupid, childish bastard I let you all get hurt during a battle where I could have healed you as we went along."

There was a long moment of silence before she finally nodded a small smile replacing the thin line of her mouth, "Say that again."

"What? That I'm sorry?" Anders asked softly, reached out to gently brush his fingers across her cheek and forehead, trying to smooth away the lines of worry around her mouth and brow.

"No," she said quietly and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him, "The part where you're a stupid, childish bastard."

The mage opened his mouth to repeat the words but stilled when she pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head. "We don't have time at the moment, but once this is over I'll have great fun in making you say that. Over and **over **again."

She offered him a small grin, a shadow of the one she usually had reserved for him but it was a smile none the less, and she crouched next to Kodi with a worried pout, chewing the her bloodied lower lip. "Find her boy, you know what to do," she whispered and with a soft chuff the hound bounded off into the night.

* * *

"I was wondering when you were going to get here. Leandra was so sure you'd come for her."

"Where is she?" Marea ground out, her hands tightening around the pommels of her daggers as she stalked across the underground room and glowered at the mage standing behind the chair in front of the fireplace. His face twisted cruelly into what could have once been a smile and she thought back to the forbidden books that had littered the floor in the room they'd passed through and then the painting that had hung proudly on the wall. The woman had looked so much like her mother...

"You will never understand my purpose. Your mother was chosen because she was special, and now she is part of something...greater..." he said softly, the venom dripping from his words as he strode around the chair to face her properly.

Her knuckles turned white with the force of her grip. "Save me the demented ramblings you insane **bastard**! What have you done with her?"

The mage, Quentin if the notes had been right, smirked and looked over his shoulder at the chair. "Why, she's right here, waiting for you. I have done the impossible; I have touched the face of the Maker and lived. Do you know what the strongest force in the universe is?"

She watched, nauseated as he turned to grasp the back of the chair, reaching around to brush his fingers across something hidden from her view. Hawke felt Aveline stiffen somewhere to her right, the woman had a better vantage point but when she attempted to see what the red head saw Aveline pushed her away, pale and solemn. The blonde hissed her name anxiously and tried again but her shoulders where held at arm's length away, stronger than she was.

"Love," Quentin continued, ignorant to the silent struggle behind him, moving around the chair to regard the person, she'd managed to glimpse than much, with a deranged sort of passion. "I pieced her together from memory – I found her eyes, her skin, her delicate fingers...And now, at last...her face. Oh, this beautiful face. I've searched far and wide to find you again, my beloved. And no force on this earth will part us!"

The figure in the chair before him stood unsteadily, shuffling in place for a moment before turning to face the small group. There was strained silence as Hawke stared in repulsed horror at her mother's face, trembling suddenly as Kodi growled behind her.

"_**No**_!"

It took Anders a moment to realise the cracking shriek of desperation had come from Marea and she tore towards Leandra and Quentin mindlessly, unaware of the Shades and Abominations being summoned from the earth beneath their feet. The loud screech had him covering his ears as a creature, hideously reminiscent of a woman crawled its way up, punching a fist through the hard ground just in front of the blonde; before he could shout a warning a flash of blue streaked across his vision and Fenris stopped a few feet away with the struggling woman in arms.

The mage was too relieved to be jealous...mostly.

The battle was long and hard, with wave after wave and possession after possession; the final repugnant creature a twisted doppelganger of Leandra. It had been Fenris who had cut it down; Hawke had frozen in place, unable to move when the demon had bore down on her, clawed hand raised to slice through her. However the barrier around Quentin dissolved suddenly and before anyone could stop her, the blonde had run straight through the line of Shades and skeletons to attack the man.

None of them could see past the swamp of enemies how she was faring against the blood mage, but when the last creature had been cut down they turned in time to see her throw her dagger into the skull of a rogue skeleton, face twisted in a mask of pain and anger. She walked over hesitantly to retrieve her blade, struggling to remove it from the half rotted flesh.

They could only watch as she turned, her eyes unreadable to see who was approaching her only to gasp and run forward, her clutching hands desperately trying to find purchase against Leandra's cold skin. "Mother! Please, **Maker** no...Anders _heal her_. Please I don't care how - "

"There's nothing I can do," he whispered hoarsely quietly approaching her but Aveline's hand restrained him with a shake of her head. "His magic was keeping her alive..."

The blonde cupped the woman's face, lip trembling as she surveyed the familiar features, gray from death. Her mother looked up at her unseeing for a second or so before her eyes finally focused on her with a small smile, "I knew you'd come."

"Don't move," she mumbled, smoothing her hair once, and then twice feverishly turning to Aveline, "I'll find a way to...I'll get Merrill and she'll..."

An icy hand on her cheek silenced her and she turned her anguished face back to look down at her mother, tightening her grip marginally. "Shh, don't fret, darling. That man would have kept me trapped here, but now...I'm free. I'll be with Carver and Bethany...and your father; but you'll be here all alone."

"I should have watched over you more carefully. I was so wrapped up in my anger and resentment I didn't once think to – _No_, I promised them I'd keep you safe, please don't make me break it. Not again," she whispered, barely audible as her breath hitched and hot tears flooded her eyes, wetting both of their faces.

"My little girl has grown up so quickly...You're so...**beautiful**, Marea...I'm so sorry I didn't tell you that when it mattered..." The blonde made a weak noise in the back of her throat and pulled her mother's body a little tighter against her chest, her breathing rugged as she tried to suppress her tears. "I love you...so much. You've always made me so...proud..."

Leandra stilled suddenly and Marea heard herself cry out distantly, the sobs wracking her body as she pulled the cold corpse against her chest. "Mama! No, please. Mama, please don't leave me here! Not alone. I love you..._Please wake up_!"

Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear her four year old self asking the air, _'Is Mama dying?'_But this time there was no Papa to smooth her hair and kiss her forehead and promise everything would be fine. She had no one else in the world.

She was alone.

And with that thought ringing in her ears she screamed, burying her face into her mother's hair, sobbing until her throat was raw.

* * *

Hesitantly Anders pushed the door to Hawke's room open, slipping inside. She was sat, perched on the edge of the bed in nothing but a shift dress, her arms wrapped around her stomach and Kodi draped across her feet, whimpering pitifully. She didn't look up to acknowledge him.

"I know nothing I say will change it," he said softly, moving to stand at the foot of the bed. "But I'm just...I'm sorry. You were lucky to have her as long as you did. When the pain fades that's what will matter."

"Go away, Anders."

Sighing, the mage bit his lip, a habit he seemed to have picked up from her, and stepped forwards, freezing when she turned her eyes to glare at him. There was no heat behind her eyes, only dull acceptance and barely masked pain; despite her words she **wanted **him here. "She wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"You don't know my mother," she hissed bitterly and shifted to turn away from him, stiffening when he eased himself down onto the bed next to her.

"I know. And I'm sorry that I never will." Reaching over he brushed his fingers beneath her chin and turned her face to look at him. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

She didn't say a word for a long moment; just looked at him and nodding he got to his feet, turning to leave. The softest of tugs at his sleeve stopped him in his tracks and Anders glanced over his shoulder to look at the blonde. Her lip was trembling again.

"Stay."

Removing the staff from his back he propped it against the wall and sat down once more, watching her shift anxiously before adding, "Hold me..."

When she looked at him with such vulnerability...how could he say no?

Kicking off his boots he shifted onto the bed and opened his arms for her, letting Marea settle herself against his chest, her fingers tightening in his shirt beneath his coat. Neither said a word, and after five minutes or so of listening to their breathing the rogue finally added, "Don't let me go."

Smiling affectionately Anders carded his fingers through her hair and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, lulled by the warmth of her body, the rhythm of her breathing and the crackle of the fire.

"I don't plan on it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Eleven**

Hawke refused to leave her room for little over two weeks, and for the first few days Anders didn't leave her side. Eventually, however, he needed to return to his clinic and the shivering blonde reluctantly allowed him to leave on the proviso that he would return if he could on an evening and sit with her. During the days she could have some semblance of normality, writing in her journals (though from a quick glance one evening when the woman had gone to sleep Anders had seen she wrote very little) and she and Orana would sit by the fire as the elf played the lute for her.

The others stepped in where they could, Fenris and Merrill were always happy to sit with her, the former for less chivalrous reasons the mage had no doubt (though the sneaky bastard claimed they were _reading lessons_...Anders could pull that stunt too if he wanted to), and Varric or Isabella could often be found sitting opposite the young woman until nightfall with a glass of wine telling her of the thrilling happenings in Kirkwall. Aveline had only been able to see her a few times as she'd been too busy trying to deal with the fallout Leandra's death had caused. A certain Starkhaven prince had been strangely absent as well; something that irked Anders for no apparent reason, if the man didn't want to help with her grief then that was his business.

It was watching Marea look up expectantly at her doorway on a morning before he left for the clinic only to find Merrill or Fenris standing there and watching her face fall that broke his heart. If Sebastian didn't make an appearance soon then so help him he would drag the man down from his precious Chantry to see her himself.

As it so happened he didn't need to in the end; the man did the right thing himself and came to see her in the afternoon, when Anders was at the clinic. And made a right hash of it too.

"I've put your mother's name on the Remembrance wall..."

Marea gave the man in her doorway a thin smile from her seat by the fire, a mug of elfroot and cinnamon steaming between her hands. Whether or not she had faith in the Maker it was still nice of the rogue to think of her, of her mother. "Thank you, Sebastian. That was very sweet of you...I'm glad you're here."

"I only wish I could have come sooner," Sebastian said gently and nodded to acknowledge her thanks before slowly padding over to settle himself on the rug in front of her. "I...know that you say you don't believe in the Maker, Hawke. But some people find it comforting to know that He does things for a reason."

The blonde sent him a withering look and shook her head. Of all the things to bring up. Why not just a simple 'I'm sorry, do you want to talk about it?' She didn't want to hear that the Maker had a plan for us; she didn't want something akin to the response he'd given Fenris: _'Maybe the Maker let Danarius kill that boy so you would never let it happen again.'_ **People** were twisted, that wasn't down to an absent deity. "I'm not _'some people'_, Sebastian. And trying to convert me while I'm supposed to be mourning is a very low blow, especially for you."

Although looking slightly guilty that she'd taken his words such Sebastian frowned and leant forward to gently take her hands in his, and while a few weeks ago she would have welcomed his warm sympathy, she couldn't stomach anyone's touch – other than Anders. "I'm not trying to convert you, Hawke. I was just saying that the Maker has a plan. She's by His side now; he takes the best of us."

Hawke scowled and pulled her hands from his, settling her hurt gaze on him. How could he read other people so easily and not understand that talking about this wasn't **helping**. She didn't want a debate about whether or not the Maker existed and whether or not he cared for them; but his words had inflamed her frayed nerves and short fuse. Clenching her hands around the mug she chewed each word before spitting them out at him.

"She wasn't his to take. She was _mine_, and I _needed_ her; I **need** her. You say the Maker has turned away from us and yet _now_you say he took an interest in our lives long enough to take my mother away from me. He's either gone and doesn't care or he's a sick, spiteful deity who likes watching us in pain!" she growled watching Sebastian's face twist from surprise to anger as he jumped to his feet.

"We scorned him first, Hawke! **We're **the ones who turned away from him – "

"You claim he's our father!" she cut across him, slamming the mug on the table and hissed when the scolding liquid spilt onto her hand. "What kind of a parent turns away when their children are suffering _this much_?"

"My parents did it," the prince snapped thoughtlessly, "So did your mother."

Marea froze and turned horrified eyes to the prince stood in front of her, and for a moment both stared at each other in appalled shock, neither daring to broach the silence. The blonde could already feel tears prickling at her eyes at the stark reminder of the strained relationship she and her mother had shared and for a moment the words that passed between them at Leandra's death didn't matter. She was still five years old and fighting for her Mama's attention; desperate for the affection of old.

From the corner of her eyes she could see Anders had appeared in the doorway, Kodi growling by his feet, looking between the two rogues bewildered by what he'd heard from the hallway. Hawke wanted to hide from them both and as Sebastian made to touch her shoulder she leapt from the chair, backing away from him towards the bed.

"Get out."

In Sebastian's defence he did look disgusted with himself for saying such a thing, even in the heat of the moment, but she didn't have the state of mind to be as understanding as would have been in the past. "Hawke, I'm so sorry. I didn – "

"Sebastian. Get. Out."

After a moment's hesitation the man slowly dipped his head and slipped past Anders, mumbling his apology as he went. The mage could only watch as Hawke paced back and forth across the room, the heels of her palms dug into her eyes and her breathing hitching. Absently he scratched behind the Mabari's ears as he whined before gently nudging the beast out of the room and shut the door.

"Hawke."

The woman in front of him continued her frantic pacing, plucking at her nightshirt and chewing her lower lip into bloody submission; it was only when Anders padded over and gently held her in place that she looked at him. Careful not to jostle her too much (for fear she'd run like a skittish colt) the mage gently pushed her long hair from her face, tucked the mass over one shoulder and brushed his fingers down her cheek.

"Marea. Calm down. Please."

The blonde, although reluctant, slowly did as he asked and Hawke took a deep breath before turning her eyes to him; she looked a little surprised, as if she hadn't quite expected him to be there. Anders offered a small smile before obligingly wrapping his arms around her smaller frame when she leant forward to bury her face into his chest. Come to think of it, he was back a little early...Some pushing on Justice's part.

Had he known?

_Why Justice? You were worried for the 'distraction'._

Somewhere distantly he could feel the spirit's dislike of being teased but noticed there was no evidence of denial in his own emotions. Perhaps there had been more to Justice's intentions than he'd first expected when he and Marea had spoken in the Fade; that got a sudden burst of emotions and he chuckled under his breath.

"Why're you laughing?"

Looking down Anders smirked at the rogue peering at him from beneath her fringe and shook his head. "Nothing really, just Justice being emotional. It doesn't happen much; in fact it doesn't happen at all. With two exceptions. The mages, and you."

That stopped her tears and Marea swiped at her reddening cheeks in embarrassment. He was lying, he had to be; he knew how awkward things were between her and the spirit and he wanted to tease her about it. If she remembered rightly Justice had forcibly kisses her and then proceeded to tell her that he would 'allow her' to have Anders if he wanted her 'for now'...It had left her completely baffled and under the distinct impression that the spirit didn't actually like her; he was just being affected by the body of his host.

He must have seen the disbelief on her face because he smiled charmingly and continued, "He doesn't...agree with my obsession with you; you know it's one of the few things he and I don't agree on. He thinks you're a distraction."

"Gee, thanks."

"Let me finish," the mage chided before taking her chin delicately between his forefinger and thumb. The devotion in his eyes momentarily dazed her. "I think I understand why he calls you that...It's because you are, to **both **of us. In the Circle, back in Ferelden...love was just a game. It gave the Templars too much power if there was something or someone you couldn't stand to lose. No mage I've known has dared to fall in love, this is a rule I'll most cherish breaking but...I want you to be completely sure that I'm what you want – you'll never get another first time."

"You start off all of your conquests like this?" she asked incredulously, shivering as his hand finally spread across her cheek, electricity crackling beneath his skin. "Anyone would think you're _trying _to scare me off."

Anders gave her a coy smile, "Only the one's that matter and I...am. I'm here for you...if you'll still have me."

Marea somewhat bashfully returned the smile and tentatively wrapped her arms around his neck, moulding her body against the length of his. "You're going to have to try harder than that to make me run. I've fought nasty people."

"And I've fought Darkspawn."

"I deal with Sandal and his 'Enchantment Soup' on a near day to day basis," Hawke said finally, giggling when the mage pulled a face and nodded, placing his hands on her hips as he swallowed thickly.

"You win. _How_he hasn't blown half of Hightown to Antiva and back is beyond me."

For a long moment the pair remained silent with Anders alternating between staring at her lips and somewhere in between her eyes and Hawke staring resolutely at his chest as she toyed with the band that held his hair back away from his face. Finally she tugged the fastening free and dropped the unwanted piece of fabric to the ground behind him before carding her fingers through his hair, leaning up to kiss his chin. Then his jaw. Until his hands gently pushed at her hips to stop her.

Frowning, the blonde asked, "What's wrong?"

"You are...not the only one who's a little nervous, Marea," Anders mumbled, turning his face in her grasp to gently kiss the palm of her hand with a small smirk. "And you're going about this all wrong."

At first she was a little insulted, until she noticed the twinkle in his eyes, and she pulled away a fraction to stare at him, one eyebrow raised. The expression made him groan, "Maker I hate it when you give me that look. I feel like a naughty boy."

"Who says you're not?"

"Touché," Anders chuckled and gently rubbed her sides before dipping his head to nose her hair away from her ear. "You were going too quickly, sweetheart. This should be taken slowly; we have plenty of time for lost in the moment love making later, but for now we should savour this."

With an anxious nod the blonde bit her lip as the man tucked his hair behind an ear before leaning back with a mischievous leer. "It appears I'll have to educate you," he added after a second's pause and regarded her with mock solemnity. "First you start with a kiss – " he gently swatted her rump as she opened her mouth to argue with him, " – Not the teasing little things you saw fit to pepper me with; a proper kiss...One that holds a promise of things to come."

Before Marea could say a word his lips had captured hers, relentless in their attack and pressure but gentle and far more yielding than the one Justice had instigated in the Fade and it was all she could do to keep her head out of the clouds and to kiss him back. His lips were chapped from his time spent in Darktown and his stubble rasped against her chin but she couldn't bring herself to care about either, not when Anders was dragging her closer and his tongue was softly probing her lips; begging for entrance.

With a gentle moan she obliged and gave him access to her mouth turning into putty in his hands as he thoroughly tasted and explored every inch of her. And when he gently, tantalizingly brushed his tongue against hers it was all she could do not to collapse in his arms right then. He was teasing her, and _Maker_was he good at it. Whimpering she buried her fingers into his hair and pressed forwards and against him eagerly, relishing the soft growl he made in the back of his throat as she returned his goading with gentle nips of her own.

She was on fire.

"And next?" she whispered breathlessly, wetting her lips as he stared down at her with hooded eyes.

"And now," Anders mumbled and dipped his neck to gently graze his lips against the delicate curve of her ear, his tongue flicking across the fleshy lobe, "We play."

He smirked at the soft giggle he was rewarded when his fingers glanced over her sides and he attacked her neck with a fevered devotion, all hot tongue and gentle nips. He trailed his open mouthed kisses to her collarbone, following her lead as she gently tugged at his hair with breathy sighs and sucked at the hollow, barely dipping beneath the fabric of her nightshirt before returning his lips to hers.

The way she returned the affection left him in no doubt that she wanted him as much as he wanted her and when she gently ground her hips to his he felt his conviction to take this slow waver. It would be so easy to take her quickly, against the bedpost, over her desk, on the floor on the fire-warmed rug...in the chair with her undulating above him, her hair tossed over her shoulder and head tipped back with abandon. Groaning softly he forced his lust dazed mind away from the fantasies he was imagining and to the fantasy unfolding in reality.

Hawke's fingers were making quick work of his coat, apparently picking locks made for good sex. He was looking forward to testing it out. "Not wishing to ruin the moment," he whispered as she pushed herself up onto the balls of her feet to lavish his jaw and throat, "But _where _did you learn all of this?"

Marea pulled away a fraction, her eyes gleaming impishly as she broke into a sly smile. "Isabella's friend fiction is Maker sent to a woman who has nothing but her fingers to keep her company."

She giggled as his eyes widened and his pupils dilated, his fingers tightening in the fabric of her shirt. His throat worked for a moment before he hoarsely asked, "And...what exactly did you take away from it?"

"Oh this and that. There are few that involve Justice, 'Bella has **quite **the imagination...But there was one that I'm rather fond of; would you like to hear it?" Hawke shrugged and pushed his coat from his shoulders to fall heavily by their feet. At the soft moan of acknowledgement she continued, "I somehow pluck up the courage to go down to the clinic during the evening; you're busy sat there writing up your manifesto and I don't give you a moment to get up before I slip onto your lap and – "

Trailing off she bit her lip, her blush of desire deepening as he groaned and buried his face into her neck, gently nipping the skin. "And I take you into – into my mouth."

That seemed to do it. Whatever restraint Anders had been trying to claw at snapped and he took her by the shoulders, pushing her back until they both hit the post on her bed. For what felt like an age they did battle, their tongues and mouths dancing in the ancient sensual rite that thousands had done before them; but he didn't think that any of them could have wanted each other as much as they did. With a growl he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt his fingers leaving a trail of hot and cold as he slid them over her abdomen. "You little _**minx**_, Marea."

"Hmmm," she giggled and tipped her head back against the smooth wood, arching into his touch like a cat, pressing a leg between his own. "'Bella's been rather helpful over all this. What did you think we were talking about last night when you walked in?"

Anders cast his mind back to the night previous, where the two women had been sat on the rug, the Rivani pirate whispering with a glimmer in her eye as she explained something, all sultry smiles and crude gestures. Hawke, although a little wide eyed, had taken it all in her stride, nodding every now and then; he had to admit he'd been too busy watching the way the fire danced over her skin and cast shadows against the creamy expanse of her slightly bared chest that he hadn't been listening to them.

"One of her past conquests, I assumed. I didn't realise that she was educating you on your future one," he mumbled against her skin, savouring the way her breath hitched as he brushed his thumbs over her fabric hidden nipples. After a moment of fumbling he reached behind her to untie the laces holding her breast band in place, "I'll have to thank her later."

Marea smirked and fisted his hair pulling his face up to her level, biting her lip at the look of unadulterated lust on the mage's face as she gently flicked her tongue over his top lip. "Less talking, more kissing."

"Yes, ma'am," Anders chuckled and leant forward to capture her kiss swollen lips with his, groaning softly as she shifted her weight, the leg trapped between his causing _just_ enough friction to be tantalising. Maker did she know what she was **doing **to him? The small smile, albeit a little nervous, let him know that she did.

With a sly grin he slowly pulled one hand from beneath her shirt, the breast band between his forefinger and thumb; both of their gazes moved to regard the offending piece of fabric and before she could say a word Anders had dipped his head to gently flick his tongue across the hardened nub his free hand was still teasing. With a shocked moan Hawke arched into his mouth, sighing when his lips wrapped around the thin cloth and sucked.

The sensation was dulled and enticing and both of them revealed in the moment, the mage only pulling away when her shirt was damp with saliva to move to torment her nipples twin. If there was one thing Anders could say about Marea Hawke, it was she was a woman who knew what she wanted; it was obvious from the slight hesitation to her actions that this was new territory but she was a fast learner and she certainly listened to her body. Within minutes she was gently tugging his hair and guiding him to areas of her breasts that she found most sensitive and he had to pull away for air.

"I'm sorry," she whispered huskily and suddenly it didn't matter, there were just _too __**many**__ clothes_. Hushing her gently he grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it aside to join his coat. He barely had the chance to look at her before she was upon him, her small warm hands exploring the hardened planes of his torso, tutting softly as her fingers traced long healed scars and the fresher ones from their escapades about Kirkwall.

Each blemish was lavished with a soft open mouthed kiss and she couldn't help but marvel over the softness of his skin, stretched taut over hard muscles. He was better in the flesh than anything she could have hoped to imagine in her bed when thoughts of the mage had kept her awake at night. She had known he would be well built, beneath the coat she could see the muscle rippling when he worked in the clinic and during battle when he'd spin and drive his staff into the ground with a force that made the earth beneath them move.

Marea kept her ears cocked for the soft hitch of his breath that told her when she flicked her teeth against an area of skin he was particularly responsive to. After a moment or so she brushed her trembling fingers against the waistband of his breeches and lifted her eyes to shyly meet his, "Can I?"

"Sweetheart, you're welcome to take whatever you want," he whispered breathlessly and let her manoeuvre him so his back was against the post and she slowly slid down his body to crouch in front of him. Chewing her lip anxiously Hawke slowly released the ties and helped him shimmy out of the restraining fabric and his smallclothes. She giggled childishly as he cursed when they got caught around his knees by his boots but a gentle touch to his thigh had him stilling suddenly.

Anders could only watch as the blonde in front of him smiled coyly and pressed a soft open mouthed kiss to his thigh and pulled his boots off when he raised each leg. Maker she must be Andraste herself because he was certain that no one should be able to look that beautiful and still hold a semblance of innocence while sitting between his legs. He tunnelled his fingers through her soft hair as she hesitantly wrapped her hand around his length.

He could feel the uncertainty and tension in her body as she nervously bit her lip harder in concentration and rolled her loose fist up to the tip. His breathy moan seemed to spur her on because she was suddenly moving faster and it was all he could do to keep his hips from thrusting forward.

The gentle flick of her tongue however had his hips snap towards her and she chuckled at his desperation before tenderly pushing his shuddering form back against the post. The toothy smile she shot up at him sent his pulse racing in his ears and he stood transfixed as she tantalizingly slowly wrapped those perfect lips around his head and pushed down, inch by inch.

From above her she could hear his grunts of pleasure as his hips jerked beneath her ministrations. Her jaw was starting to ache but despite it she felt arousal flood her abdomen; Anders was falling apart because of _her_, it sent her mind reeling. And Hawke couldn't help but understand why Isabella liked this so much; there was something liberating about this kind of pleasure. It washed away everything, if only for a little while.

Loosening her throat like the pirate had advised she awkwardly slid his length just a fraction further...And promptly choked when the mage jerked his hips forwards. Pulling away she raised an eyebrow at her lover and smiled at his horrified look, somewhat ruined by the heavy pants and the thick desire clouding his eyes. She closed her eyes for a moment as he carded his fingers through her hair and she sighed before placing her forearm across his hips and dipping her head to repeat the action.

"Stop! Stop, love or you'll finish me," he groaned and she immediately pulled away from him, her expression reminding him of the times Ser Pounce-A-Lot would place a dead pigeon or mouse on his bed in the morning...Of course this wasn't because of a dead animal she'd caught...

"Maker, more friend fiction?"

She blushed slightly and shook her head, her smug smile slipping slightly, "I...it was only once. I was drunk on cheap ale one night when I was still working for Meeran. One of his boys had been eying me up for weeks and he managed to persuade me to – well, the bastard passed out when I was finished."

"Experience isn't a bad thing to have, Marea. But you haven't..."

Shaking her head Hawke let him pull her to her feet and pull her flush against his body, the movement accentuated her clothed form and the look that passed over his face left her in no doubts that it was about to be rectified. He made quick work of the loose sleeping breeches at her hips and let them, and her Orleasian silk smallclothes (Maker help him), drop to the floor before gently smoothing his hands over the swell of her buttocks. She could only watch, the flush of embarrassment and desire tinting her shoulders and collarbone as he gently pulled her shirt over her hair, both of them giggling when the ties caught in her hair and another five minutes or so was spent trying to untangle her locks.

Finally she stood naked and blushing in front of him and he couldn't stop himself from grasping her chin and pulling her into another kiss. Gently he guided her onto the bed, helping her arrange her limbs, arms and legs that suddenly felt very heavy and awkward. He must have felt the nervous energy building in her gut because he gently brushed his fingers down her shoulders, causing her to shudder at the electricity she could feel thrumming over his skin.

"Calm down, love...Just relax," he whispered before kissing down her collar to lavish attention to her perfect breasts, palming one as he licked, sucked and twisted one taunt nipple between his teeth and fingers. Hawke _sung_ beneath him, arching and whispering encouragements as he dragged his tongue down the dip of her stomach and past the wiry triangle of curls above her sex. Her musky scent flooded his nostrils and he had to gently push the blonde's legs apart when she'd reflexively tried to close them against his intrusion.

The first swipe of his tongue across her folds as he spread her had Marea arching from the bed with a soft whine, trembling with her force of her desire as his lips enclosed the nub above her entrance and sucked. Had she still had any form of coherent thought she would have been ashamed of the moans, mewls and cries that escaped her as Anders manipulated her body with more expertise than it was fair to have. And by the time he gently pressed one finger into her clenching sex she came, her back bowing with the force of her climax and shouting the mage's name before slumping boneless and sated against the pillows.

Vaguely she was aware of him settling his weight over her and instinctively her legs moved up to cradle his hips and with a small, lazy smile she pushed the stray hairs from his sweaty forehead. Tentatively he leant down to press his lips to hers and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her from the bed to crush her against his chest. "Are you ready?"

Licking her lips nervously when she felt him align against her Hawke slowly bobbed her head in acknowledgement, gritting her teeth as he slid into her. They had both expected the slight resistance and he was careful to soothe her pain and distract her with gentle kisses, his breath coming in soft pants as he fought the urge to thrust. It felt like an age before she subtly shifted her weight and breathily assured him it was alright to move.

True to his word there was nothing rushed about their coupling; they moved with a languid passion that rolled over them both, washing away anything in the wave's path. How long they rocked against each other, crooning moans and soft demands into each other's ears neither of them were sure, but eventually the gentle pace quickened as the edge loomed before them. It was Hawke who fell from the precipice first, pressing firmly against him as he buried his face into her neck, her clenching muscles sending him stuttering towards his own release.

The fire in the grate had dimmed to embers when they finally regained their breath and untangled their sated limbs to curl against each other to bask in the final throes of passion. Anders recovered first and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to watch the glorious creature spread out next to him, eyes closed and smiling.

"Stop staring at me." Hawke cracked an eye open as he chuckled and stretched her languid muscles before turning to look at him, "Why **are**you staring at me?"

"What did I do to deserve someone like you?" he asked quietly, seriously and she frowned, shifting to iron out the creases at his forehead with a small kiss.

"I ask myself the same thing if it makes you feel any better."

It did. "I love you. I've been holding back from saying that, you should have a normal life, not be tied down to a fugitive like me."

"_Anders_," the blonde hissed warningly and he smiled slightly, "We've had this conversation. Can't we go back to post-sex, no talking...Or even better pre-sex, no talking?"

Anders leant over and pressed a soothing kiss to her lips, resting his hand on her hip, "I don't ever want to leave you."

There was a long moment where Marea didn't say a word until, "I'm hungry...I think Sandal might have left from Enchantment soup down stairs. Want some?"

"You'll be an inspiration to all future poets," Anders remarked dryly but relaxed when the blonde rolled him onto his back and straddled his waist. Now she had his attention.

"Don't ever leave me, Anders."

"Do you really mean that?" he asked anxiously and placed his hands on her hips trying to swallow his sudden nerves. "Would you have me here, living with you? Would you tell the world, the Knight-Commander, that you're in love with an Apostate and that you'll stand by him?"

Hawke's expression darkened for a moment and absurdly he though she was about to decline him, his worries were unfounded however. "If Meredith wants you she'll have to get through me, and it won't end well for her...Though recently I _have_been thinking she needs a new look; I was thinking something sharp and pointy embedded in her back? What do you think?"

"I think I've just landed the most blood-thirsty woman in Thedas," Anders chuckled and groaned as she ground her hips back against him. "Maker, Marea, already?"

Her eyes gleamed mischievously and Hawke leant down, tucking her hair behind her ear as she settled a toothy smile on him, "What's wrong, old man? Can't keep up?"

Anders growled and quickly flipped them, biting her lower lip gently.

"I'll show you who's an old man."


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue**

The sky was blood red and screams were heady in the air.

The Chantry was destroyed and lay in ruin across Kirkwall, shrapnel falling to the ground, laced with the putrid stench of sulphur and flesh. But the Champion was mindless to it all, to the horror on her companions faces, of the anger growing on the Knight-Commanders'; her eyes were trained solely on the familiar back of her lover, his shoulder tense with...fear? Andraste knew she had forgiven him many things over the years and she wanted to be calm about this, she wanted to diffuse the situation before it got out of hard, but Sebastian's shouts and her own wrenching gut was making this hard.

_Maker all those poor people..._

The evening service would barely have finished, people would have been ambling, socializing, united in their devotion and Anders had...

Marea had to forcibly keep her feet on the ground to stop herself from launching at him. Whether she believed in the Maker or not was besides the point, what he'd done was wrong.

"There can be no peace."

"Why? Why would you do such a thing?"

Anders just stood there, his face unreadable for a moment before hissing, "I removed the chance of compromise because there is no compromise."

Oh sweet Andraste he'd **used** her. That day in the Chantry, when he'd asked her to distract Elthina he'd used the composites they'd found together to do _this_. She was going to be sick; the bile was stinging the back of her throat and for a moment the ground fell from beneath her feet; vaguely she felt a gauntlet covered hand on her upper arm, subtly helping her keep her balance. Forcing a whisper of a smile at Fenris beside her she stepped forward until she was nose to nose with Meredith; her gaze wrathful, placing her weight between the Templars and Anders. Maker knew she was going to regret this...

"I demand you stand with us! Even **you **must see that this outrage cannot be tolerated."

"This...is chaos. We must help the Knight-Commander," Aveline said suddenly, her voice for once very weak and Hawke turned to look at the red head incredulously. This...bitch wanted to orchestrate a massacre and Aveline wanted to help? The mages were as much part of the city as the other citizens; to suggest they kill all of them because she was too much of a fool to see her lover's decline into madness was...unjust.

But before she could begin to voice her opinion Merrill cut across her. "No! This wasn't their fault. You can't possibly want to slaughter innocent people, can you?"

"It can't be stopped now. You have to choose."

The soft intonation of Anders voice stabbed a harder blow to her chest and she glared at him. How could he force this on her? They could have had a normal life, she would have protected him and...Justice...He had the decency to look at the ground after a moment or so and Marea ground her teeth. "You...selfish, bloody fool. _This _was why you needed me to distract the Grand Cleric?"

"If you knew what I was doing you would have felt honour-bound to try and stop me. I couldn't take that chance, Love. The Circle is an injustice, in many places beyond Kirkwall. The world needs to see."

"You fool! You've doomed us all!"

Anders turned his ire on the elf and shook his head, "We were already doomed. A quick death now, or a slow one later – I'd rather die fighting."

The battle between the remaining Templars as Meredith fled to warn those in her command was short and mostly painless. And that was when the thin veneer of strength started to crack. Aveline was the first to break the silence, her gaze solemn as their friends gathered around them, Fenris hovering nearby as Marea placed herself between Anders and Sebastian. For now at least.

"Hawke...Marea if you chose this...I don't – I don't know if I can follow you...But...I don't have a choice; my place is by your side. Where I'll always be."

Fenris however was far less forgiving. She had always had the inkling that the elf had never forgiven her for her choice to be with Anders, and now he gripped her upper arms, holding her still as his eyes bore into hers. "You would defend these mages after all they've done? Throw yourself at a hopeless cause? Get yourself _**killed**_?"

She desperately wanted to say something witty, something that would release the tension; but she did the only thing she could think of when words failed her – she nodded. The pain in her gaze had Fenris loosen his hold slightly and with a small sigh bowed his head, "This a mistake...but I won't abandon you. I owe you that much."

"You owe me nothing."

"We shall see."

Smiling sadly the blonde pulled away from the elf and looked across at Anders, the mage having settled himself on a crate, watching their interactions quietly. Hawke wasn't sure whether or not she was pleased that he'd realised she didn't consider him part of the group anymore and swallowing thickly she slowly padded to stand behind him, unable to look him in the eye.

"There's nothing you can say that I haven't already said to myself," he said softly, barely audible over the screams following them from Hightown. "I took a spirit into my soul and changed myself forever to achieve this. This is the justice all mages have awaited."

"Did that _**thing **_tell you to do this?"

There was a moments paused before the mage shook his head, almost sadly, "No. I...Justice didn't – "

"You should have trusted me enough to tell me what you were planning," Marea hissed, her hands clenching into fists by her side, bodily trembling.

"I know...But what if you wanted to stop me...Or worse what if you wanted to _help_- couldn't let you do that. This burden is mine to bear. The people fear what we can do, but to use that fear to bludgeon us into submission is wrong! And they do it with our blessing! And...if I pay for it with my life...they I pay. Perhaps then Justice will at least be free...For what it's worth, I'm glad that it's you...it was nice to be happy – for a little while... "

No one spoke for a long moment and no one moved; and then, suddenly, she had Anders by the front of his robes and had slammed him against the far wall, shaking him hard. "You **selfish** bastard! How can you sit there and ask me to kill you? To make you into a martyr? So people can rally behind you, curse your name?" she shouted, incensed by the way his sad eyes watched her as she cursed him, hit him and hated him. Her fury exhausted itself in a matter of minutes and she was horrified to hear herself sobbing as she slumped against his chest, "How can you sit there and – Anders you're..._you're breaking my heart..._"

There was hesitation in his body but eventually his arms came up and held her, and his mouth as at her ear, whispering apologies, sweet nothings – and despite herself she found herself **forgiving** him... Her hands slid up his chest to wrap around his neck and pulled him near, closing her eyes and letting his affections wash over her to soothe the pain.

"Hawke! If I'd been in that Chantry today would you be standing here waffling? Would you be _holding_ that **Abomination**?" Sebastian shouted from across the street and strode forward to meet them halfway, "You _know _what must be done."

To all of their surprise, perhaps none more so than herself, Hawke pulled from Anders' embrace and turned on the prince, one hand warningly on the dagger at her belt, "_Sebastian_, he should do what he can to fix this and then he'll be handed over to the courts if we survive. Killing him here will do nothing but make him a martyr and deny the people the right to choose what they perceive as justice."

"No! You cannot allow this Abomination to walk free! He dies, Hawke, or I am leaving for Starkhaven. I will bring such an army with me on my return that there'll be nothing left of Kirkwall for these Maleficarum to hide!"

"You're being as rash as the day you put up that request on the Chanter's Board. Elthina was right to stop you from re-entering the Chantry, you have no sense of forgiveness - of compassion! The Grand Cleric would rather have died than see this mayhem," Marea snapped and quickly headed him off as he made to walk past her, pushing at the light plating across his chest.

"Love calm d – "

"No, Anders! This is not up for debate – no one is killing you. The only one who gets to put a knife in your back is me."

Sebastian's gaze darkened and he rose his hand to point a threatening forefinger in her face, his gaze flickering to the mage cowering behind her, "They hold no compassion, so why should I? Did he have a shred of it when he blew up those innocents? You're the one who taught me that it is the ends that matter, not the steps you take to get there. I swear to you, I will come back, and I will find your _precious_Anders, and I will teach him what true justice is – and I'll make you watch, Marea. I'll make you suffer as much as he does."

Distantly she saw Avaline shifting anxiously in the background, ready to intervene if she was needed and Hawke's heart gave a painful throb at the realisation that despite everything they were still standing by her. Everyone but Sebastian...Anders' hand brushed her shoulder again as the prince stalked from them and she turned to look at him; the hurt was still fresh in both of them, but she allowed him the heal the clotted scratches across her cheek.

"We should get to the Gallows before this gets out of hand..." she said finally, sparing a glance at the rest of the group. Striding towards the steps that would lead them to the docks she sighed, rubbing her temples, "With any luck Meredith might see reason...Guh, who am I kidding; she'll never see reason. I knew I should have stuck a knife in her back when I still had the chance..."

* * *

"Marea..."

Glancing up from Orsino and the rough battle plan they had put together Hawke frowned as Anders drew closer; he had been the only one she hadn't dared to speak to yet, and with the plans drawn and everyone knowing their orders there was little else she could do to postpone the inevitable conversation. Inclining her head in the First Enchanter's direction the blonde slowly met her lover halfway; he gestured for her to move into the shadowed privacy of the furthest corner, away from their companion's prying eyes, before he finally spoke.

"I should have trusted you, even after all we've shared I never thought you'd spare my life," he said softly and reached up to gently brush the recently healed skin across her cheek and jaw, his gaze softening from the glower it had been twisted in.

"I assure you, I'm as surprised as you are."

Chuckling sadly, Anders nodded and added, "If we live through this you know I'll be hunted, no one in Kirkwall will offer me mercy...but...if you would join me. I'd rather be on the run with you than safe with anyone else."

For an obscene moment Hawke actually thought about turning him down; after everything that she had done to protect him from the Templars, the Chantry...himself, he'd managed to throw it away in a matter of moments. But the sincere hope on his face didn't give her much choice – she would never be able to live a day without seeing him. "Then Maker help me we'll be fugitives together..."

Leaning forward he pushed her hair from her face and pressed the lightest of kisses to her lips, "We'll fight for a world where our children can be born mages and free. Ten years – a hundred years from now, someone like me will fall in love with someone like you, and there will be no Templars to tear us apart. May the Maker bring us victory, my love, or everything else is meaningless."

'You'll stay behind the front line; I don't want any more harebrained heroics from you today. You've already taken five years off my life," Marea whispered quietly and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. "We'll get through this and I'll tear out Meredith's heart for good...**without **lyrium tattoos."

"As blood thirsty as ever," he whispered fondly into her ear and pulled back a fraction only to capture her lips in a brutal, desperate kiss, one of apology, promise and need. The familiar sensation of teeth and tongue eased the ache, if only a little, and she knew they would survive, and they'd live their life as normal as they could. They'd take whatever and whoever came their way. Together. As it was meant to be.

It was only when Isabella called out to them that they finally parted. "Hoist up your breeches you two, we've got company!"

Rolling her eyes Hawke pulled away and took his hand in hers, kissing his knuckles once before turning away to the fight, whispering a soft 'I love you' as she left. It was going to be a long night, of that she was sure, and she barked out orders as she joined Aveline, Fenris and Isabella at point, ready to face the Templars as they came.

"Marea Hawke!"

Glancing over her shoulder to cast a curious look at the man she'd just left and returned his small smile as he quietly mouthed the words she'd rasped in parting.

That was all she needed to know.

Because no matter what had been said in the past, no matter what mistakes they made, or how hard they had to fight; they loved each other.

Maker knew that was enough for her.


End file.
